The Siege
by JagdPanther
Summary: Permutation of YUA: The Motion Picture. Big changes. Review, plz. I am FINISHED! Hoo-ah!
1. The Rescue

DISCLAIMER: All characters of You're Under Arrest! are not my own creation. Obviously. Characters, names, places, events, etc. are imagination of Kosuke Fujishima and his creative lackeys. All rights reserved for the HOWA corp., McDonnell-Douglas, Sikorsky, Colt, and any other brand-name product I refer to.. And the U.S. Department of Defense. And the JSDF. SIG-Sauer. Beretta. And anything and everything else that needs speaking for here. Yeah, that'll be effective when the lawyers bust my door down with a ram. _  
  
WARNING: I completely got rid of Toukairin Shouji. Sorry. Wasn't my intention. It took until about, oh, the third chapter for me to realize I had done that. Yeah, I'm smart. Got so caught up in writing that I didn't think of it. So, I guess, yeah, if you're offended by my primary character's replacement of Toukairin's role in the fic. Tough kazubies. Think of this as a cross between the anime and manga (in which he didn't exist, either).  
  
WARNING #2: This fic isn't even 75% oriented directly on the characters of YUA. I'd say it's split pretty evenly between them and my primary character. I'm assuming this is where most criticism will center on.  
  
The Siege  
Chapter 1: The Rescue  
By JagdPanther  
  
The MH-6 Little Bird zipped above the Japanese countryside at a hundred kilometers per hour. Two other pitch-black-painted helicopters flanked the leader, another MH-6 and an MH-60 Blackhawk. Each Little Bird carried four camouflaged operators, two on each side of the helicopter on makeshift benches. Another four knelt inside the Blackhawk. All twelve men watched the ground fly by underneath them as they scanned for any sign of soldiers on the ground. Over their personal radios came the message, "Two minutes out. Lock and load."  
  
  
  
Six officers of the Tokyo Police sat bound to chairs lined up in the middle of the room. Guards with AK-74s flanked the doorway and stood by each window. Their leader, a wizened ex-Colonel in the Japanese Self- Defense Force, a SIG-P229 pistol in hand, stared down at a black-haired female officer. He lifted her chin up with the pistol and looked into her defiant eyes. "You are the ones at Bokuto station who checked out that weapons cache found in a car trunk?"  
  
"What's it to you?" muttered one of the other female officers. Before she could crack a smile for her comment, the man slammed the butt of the pistol into her head.  
  
Calmly, he replied, "Your insolence will not be tolerated, young one." She spat at his feet and again he hit her. "Ladies and Gentlemen, you will be staying here for quite some time. So be on your best behavior, left my guards get too trigger-happy and decide to end the annoyance you create.  
  
"If any of your fellow officers attempt to pick up your investigation, they will be joining you, some dead and some alive. The cache you found is a minor setback. As you can see, we have plenty of weapons." He gestured to the surplus Russian military rifles in each guard's hands, rifles that were far more dangerous and effective than the pistols and sub-machine guns Yoriko and Aoi had found a day before. "Our operation will get even more weapons, larger weapons, and far deadlier weapons soon enough. This will not fail. You simple rent-a-cops will not hamper me. But I am a careful man, I plan for contingencies, and that is why you are here..."  
  
Natsumi, Miyuki, Aoi, Yoriko, Ken, and the Chief listened to the man continue to ramble vaguely about a grand scheme, its purpose unclear to them. They were all still fighting off sedation. Behind the row of chairs, the doors noiselessly cracked open enough to admit a small canister. All the guards and the man immediately looked for the source of the noise the clanking object created when it landed. The six officers tried to turn in their bindings to see it. Then the canister detonated.  
  
  
  
About two kilometers from the small complex, the three helicopters landed and the twelve operators disembarked. First Lieutenant Arleigh Rivera sprinted to the edge of the clearing and fell to his chest, his Colt M4A1 Compact Assault Rifle forming a part of a "security wheel." Each of the soldiers faced a different direction in a full circle, watching for enemy soldiers while the choppers sped away. After a tense three minutes, Rivera rose to a knee and tapped the shoulder of the man to his right. That man did the same to the man on his right and soon the eleven watched Rivera intently. He pointed north, the general direction of the camp. Two groups split evenly according to a pre-made plan, the groups split by thirty meters advancing on the camp. The wind that night was blowing almost directly south. Flight-plans had been made to take advantage of this, and the choppers were flown in from the south to mask their already quiet noise signature. Twelve soldiers now did the same as they stalked towards their target. Rarely did these professionals make any audible sounds, anyway.  
  
Within twenty-five minutes, the two groups had made their way to a tree line fifty meters from the front gate of the complex. The access road was off to their right and curled away and out of sight down a hill. Rivera broke out a pair of binoculars and observed the complex, noting guards and patrol frequency. Four guards were on either side of the front gate and two groups of two patrolled around the rectangular perimeter wall in opposite directions. His night-vision goggles allowed him to see into the dark and shadowed recesses in front of him. Fortunately, none of the guards had the same technology on them. This would make the mission far easier.  
  
Arleigh took an M4QD Suppressor from his belt and screwed it onto the muzzle of his rifle. The other men carrying M4A1s followed suit, while the rest of the men, carrying MP5-SD6s waited, their guns having been manufactured with silencers already inside. Two men wielded M249 Light machine guns in addition to their small German sub-machine guns in case hell broke loose.  
  
With one pair of guards walking along the wall, six targets presented themselves. Rivera motioned for the men to take aim. Each guard was felled by bullets to the head from two operators. Shortly thereafter, the remaining patrol rounded the corner, and was killed before noticing its downed comrades. After waiting for any possible alarms to be raised, the men advanced on the complex. The main gate was opened just enough to allow a man to pass through unhampered. 'Probably so the guards can use the crapper,' thought Arleigh. He scanned the inside of the complex through the gates for any possible threats. 'The guards must be asleep in the barracks or in the main building.' One by one the operators passed the gate and fanned out to cover the grounds. The entrance to the barracks was a set of wooden double-doors with vertical handles. A soldier moved up and placed several flex-cuffs around the handles. That would buy the troops some time if an alarm was raised. Amazingly, it was the only entrance to the two-story building.  
One operator tried to open the door to the main building while his buddies covered the rest of the courtyard. Noise discipline had been observed until then, but the man whispered into the highly sensitive microphone, which compiled the information and transmitted to Rivera. "Locked."  
  
"Pick it, Jones," came the reply.  
  
"Roger."  
  
The eleven stacked up on either side of the door with Sergeant, 1st Class Jones disabling the lock. Rivera was checking the silencer on his pistol just as the lock disengaged with a faintly audible click. Jones brought up his MP5-SD6 and quietly opened the door. A single guard sat sleeping at a desk in the foyer. In the confines of the building, the silencers could still possibly be heard quite a ways away, so Jones covered the man while an operator stalked over and severed the man's spinal cord with his K-Bar knife. The men began clearing the first floor, eliminating ten more enemy soldiers, some in a small radio room, the rest in the halls. Upstairs, more guards were felled. Five men occupied a room filled with maps of Tokyo, specifically the area around Bokuto, and many military documents. Only men with the skills of the operators could kill all five without a single one having time to even shout. The maps and documents went almost unnoticed by the swiftly moving men. The Lieutenant reminded himself to collect some as they exfiltrated. They all approached a set of large double doors with light shining under them.  
  
"Get ready for takedown." Rivera readied his rifle.  
  
  
  
The flashbang first blinded and then deafened all the soldiers looking at it in the room. Fortunately for the six officers, they could not see the extremely bright flash head-on so they only were deafened.  
  
Twelve men burst through the door, two going to each corner of the room, two securing the door behind them, and two moving to cover the courtyard below from windows with their M249 Squad-Automatic-Weapons. As each guard in the room died from silent bullets, the two operators at the windows watched intently for any lights coming on in the barracks or a rattling but blocked front door. 'Nothing. Good,' thought Sergeant, 1st Class Morris. The windows had absorbed enough of the sound. The man who had been rambling to the police attempted to bring up his pistol was shot in the chest several times. Three soldiers began releasing the hostages.  
  
"Thank you!" shouted Yoriko as she jumped up and hugged a soldier.  
  
Jones knew that he was blushing. "Keep it down, ma'am. You don't want the whole camp coming down on us now, do you?"  
  
"Who the hell are you guys?" quipped the Chief as he rubbed his now- free wrists.  
  
The man releasing Natsumi's binding from behind her looked up after cutting her last rope and saluted the chief. "First Lieutenant Arleigh Rivera, 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta, reporting, Chief."  
  
All the prisoners immediately turned to face him, saying in unison, "Arleigh!?"  
  
"Yeah, sorry about disappearing a few months ago." He laughed. "I was in a deep cover op. and, your know what, I'll explain this later. We got to get you the hell out of here. Ryker, radio, now." The tall lieutenant motioned to his Radio/Telephone operator who came over and handed the handset to his commanding officer. "Black Widow, this is Delta 5- 1. Got the presents, could you bring the car? Over."  
  
The radio message was a code and not to be taken literally, something Aoi didn't quite understand at the moment. "Arleigh, what does that mean? What presents?" Miyuki shot Aoi a glare, which shut her up.  
  
The response came quickly enough from the flight leader circling a few klicks away. "Black Widow. Roger that, 5-1. Black Widow inbound. Hostages and escorts out first. Any casualties? Over."  
  
"5-1. Negative, Widow, all safe and sound. Roger hostage extraction first with four escorts. Little Birds in second to pick up the rest of the team. PZ Falcon is the plate. Over."  
  
"Black Widow. Affirmative on PZ Falcon. What's your ETA? Over."  
  
"5-1. Estimate fifteen minutes to egress. Copy that? Over."  
  
"Roger. Black Widow out."  
  
Arleigh replaced the handset and smiled. "Okay, lets go home, guys." The group had made their way downstairs, the Delta Force operators flanking each hostage. Arleigh stepped into the map room on the second floor and hastily grabbed some maps and documents lying about the room before exiting. No time to waste, but the intelligence would be valuable.  
  
  
  
At that moment, a guard from the rear service entrance to the camp finished walking around the perimeter to acquire cigarettes from another guard. He saw the eight dead bodies. "Enemy! Enemy! Alarm!" He rushed into the guard post beside the main gate and slapped the general alarm. A shrill whine filled the air as an old air-raid siren went off across the compound.  
  
"Damnit! They know we're here!" yelled one of the S.A.W. gunners at the head of the group.  
  
Lights came on in the barracks and the door began to shake as guards attempted to open it. Arleigh's first reaction was to grab the handset from Ryker's radio. "Black Widow, Delta 5-1! We've been compromised! Over!"  
  
"Black Widow. Roger that. Where are you? Can you make it to Falcon?" Pickup-Zone Falcon was one of several small clearings closer to the camp than their landing zone had been. Falcon was the closest and therefore picked because it was the shortest hike for the tired hostages.  
  
Arleigh followed Ryker through the door as the group ran for the gate. "5- 1. Maybe, we're making a run for it! No time to..."  
  
Just then the barrack doors burst open and out came the guards, rifles and light machine guns in hand. The Delta operators responded by grabbing the hostages, covering their mouths, and pulling them into the shadows near the small mess hall. Thankfully the compound lights could not be turned on from anywhere but the main building, so the courtyard remained dark.  
  
Arleigh sank against the wall and whispered into the handset, "Well that sucks. Black Widow, this is Delta 5-1. We're stuck. The goons are out in the open. Can't make it to the gate. Looks like you're going to be driving into the mall. Over."  
  
"Damn. Roger, 5-1. We're inbound to the mall. Affirmative on driving into it. Stay in cover, we'll assault with the miniguns. ETA two mikes. Widow out."  
  
The "mall" was the code name for the compound and driving into it entailed landing the choppers in the courtyard. This was the worst-case scenario option for the mission.  
  
Ken held Miyuki tight as the soldiers began to sweep the area. Arleigh turned around and quipped, "See? You can't deny you like her."  
  
Both scowled at the young American who returned to sighting his weapon on a guard with an RPK machine gun.  
  
Natsumi and the Chief whispered to two Deltas for their pistols and waited for the eventual finding of the group with loaded Beretta M9s. 'Hell, if I would've known this was going to happen I would've stayed in that room tied to that stupid chair' thought Natsumi.  
  
The lights came on across the courtyard and their cover was blown. Immeditely Arleigh and several others fired, felling nine guards. The Blackhawk blazed overhead as another seven guards died. Crew Chief Mike Donches activated the portside M134 Rotary Minigun on the Blackhawk and began firing at guards out in the open. This allowed Arleigh to move his two S.A.W. gunners around to the other side of the mess hall while the guards were occupied. They set up and began providing covering fire. Natsumi picked off a guard barreling out of the main building and smiled. "Ah, revenge. Sedate me, will you."  
  
Arleigh tossed two smoke grenades, one in front of the main building and another in front of the barracks. The doorways were obscured for the moment. Again he grabbed the radio. "Black Widow, 5-1. Tally-ho lovely lemon. Over."  
  
"Roger 5-1. Affirmative on yellow smoke. Landing. Out."  
  
The pilot expertly landed his bird in the middle of the courtyard, allowing his window gunners to fire their miniguns at the main building and barracks. Obviously the guards kept explosives in their barracks, as a group of shots from one of the miniguns set off a massive explosion, throwing debris and guards everywhere.  
  
"Sweet," was all Arleigh could say about that. "Alright, Jones, Smith, McMicheal, and Stevens, get on the damn chopper with the hostages! Move it, maggots!" bellowed Arleigh as he unloaded a magazine into the windows of the main building, which were being used a cover for a trio of guards. Before getting up, McMicheal launched a 40-mm grenade into the window from the M203 slung under the barrel of his rifle. The guards were catapulted out of the opening with shrapnel in their backs.  
  
Aoi and Yoriko led the charge to the chopper and were pulled in by the crew chief. Miyuki jumped in, followed closely by Ken, Natsumi and the Chief. The four Delta operators scrambled in and began providing suppressive fire for their squad mates staying behind. The pilot jerked the collective up as soon as he saw the last soldier jump in and the Blackhawk jumped into the air. The soldiers and gunners held their fire as the two Little Birds swooped in to pick up the eight remaining soldiers.  
  
Arleigh fired one more clip into the upper windows of the barracks before racing for the second Little Bird. He buckled in on the bench, brought up his weapon, and resumed fire. The seven other men speedily reported in with confirmations of seating. He turned and banged on the co-pilot's door and the MH-6 shot up into the night sky, leaving the compound burning in its wake.  
  
Arleigh plugged his personal radio into the jack in the bench so he could talk with the pilots of the group. "Thanks for the lift, guys. Alright, any casualties? Anyone? Check yourself for unnaturally-occurring holes in your bodies." Eleven responses came back negative. The hostages were also wound-less. Complete success. "Widow, patch this through to Home Plate. Mission accomplished. Zero casualties. Complete success."  
  
"Roger, 5-1. Good job."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
  
  
QUESTIONS & COMMENTS: Bravo26Flashpoint@yahoo.com 


	2. Downtime and Explanations

The Siege  
Chapter 2: Downtime and Explanations  
By JagdPanther  
  
"Okay, so can we get some answers here?" Miyuki Kobyakawa sipped at some tea.  
  
Arleigh lowered a document he was reading and smirked. "Ah, maybe. Depends on what you want to know. For instance, I can't tell you the location of the President's emergency bunker at Fort Campbell, Kentucky."  
  
Nakajima swirled his coffee around. "How about starting with why you just disappeared five months ago?" The others nodded.  
  
The twenty-five year old American soldier sighed and placed the papers in a manila folder to his right. "I can do that. At least, I think I can. Wait, er, yeah, no, um, yeah! No, wait, yeah, no, yeah, no, no, no, wait, yeah."  
  
Natsumi could see that her friend was actually confused and not just playing. "Well?"  
  
"Um, I think I got clearance to do that." Arleigh rifled through the papers in the folder quick. "Supply request.. OpOrders. Memo. Ah, here it is. Yeah, I can do that."  
  
"Get on with it." The Chief was a bit flustered from the events of the past two days. First they had uncovered an arms cache in a stolen car in a private parking lot. The entire station was agitated by the appearance of about 32 SWAT-team grade weapons just sitting there in the middle of the precinct. The six of them who had been hostages had been alone in the Traffic Department of the Bokuto station the evening before Arleigh's rescue mission. Nine masked men had somehow entered the station and captured the officers. What really got the Chief was how no one noticed their exit, a loud and eventful affair involving him tripping down two flights of stairs. The bruises were killing him. They were sedated and taken to the compound. Somehow, no police officials knew where they were, but Arleigh and his U.S. Army Special Forces team did and mounted a successful rescue operation.  
  
Arleigh gulped down some coffee. "Ah, good stuff. Not as good as Navy coffee, as much as I hate to admit that, but still damn good. The 160th Special-Operations-Aviation-Regiment [SOAR] boys make some good coffee." He wiped his mouth and leaned back in his chair. "Okay, here's the deal. When I came to Tokyo about two years ago, I was just out of training for the U.S. Army's 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment- Delta."  
  
Miyuki cut him off. "I've heard of that group. More commonly known as Delta Force, right?"  
  
"One in the same. We're an extremely secretive counter-terrorist unit. We're so secretive that the Department of Defense doesn't even acknowledge that we exist. Delta Force is the best America has. As far as I'm concerned, in the world, we're only second to the British SAS. And I say that only out of respect for the unit that we were modeled after back in the 1960s and 70s. Now, my mission two years ago was a deep cover op designed to systematically search for and destroy terrorist organizations within Japan. Coincidentally, most were based around the Tokyo area. Over the course of the year and a half I was here, my team and I were able to destroy twenty-five groups. You remember all those supposed 'gang wars' that happened in the city? Those were all my team raiding group buildings. Some were killed, some taken into custody and interrogated and now spending time in lovely Guantanamo Bay Naval Base."  
  
Ken looked up. "I remember those. I responded to a few of them. You guys didn't leave much left. We barely ever found shell casings from weapons other than those the gangs were carrying."  
  
Arleigh nodded. "Yeah, we have a system for collecting casings. I mean, we're a highly secretive group. God forbid someone identifies us even as Americans to begin with because we're using American weapons."  
  
"But those were just gangs, right? What did they have to do with terrorists?" asked Ken.  
  
"Good question. You'd be surprised how many international connections most of the upper level gangs in the city had. Some groups were pure terrorist based here; others had stuff going on within the city like typical gangs. Turf wars and stuff like that. About five gangs had connections with some of the extremists down in Indonesia and the Philippines. It's not a secret that we run counter-terror ops there. They thought they could come up here to Japan and be safe from the reach of our Spec Ops. Obviously not."  
  
Aoi spoke next. "I have to ask. The raid over on Pier 21 in the harbor, that was you? How did you pull that off? I was listening to the dispatcher during that and there were units on scene before the shooting even stopped."  
  
"Ah, Pier 21. That was fun. Hey, that rhymed. Anyway, that was pretty nice. Now, we had authorization to pull the chain on just about any U.S. military unit in the country. How we pulled that one off was quite simple. That evening, we flew out to the U.S.S. Charlotte, SSN 766, in a chopper. It was a Los Angeles-Class Nuclear attack sub hugging the coast of the island on its way to Yokosuka, its port-of-call for the following morning. We boarded around eight that evening and milled around the ship until midnight. I know how to work SONAR so I was killing time in the SONAR department on the sub listening to Japanese trawlers head in from the days' fishing. Around midnight we surfaced about four klicks, uh, klicks is slang for 'kilometer,' from the pier, got onto a couple zodiac boats, and raced in. Climbed up the pier walls and raided the joint. We got some good intelligence that night. They had funding reports for their organization just lying around. Grabbed that stuff, which we later handed over to the National Security Agency who shut down the accounts and arrested the people who funded the group. We were compromised and had to fight our way back out to the pier. Took about twenty minutes to make our way around all the stacks of cargo containers and through the other warehouses. You guys showed up as were making our last push for the boats. Sped back to the Charlotte, got onboard around three in the morning. We pulled into harbor a few hours later. Donned lowly Seaman uniforms and made our way off the boat with the sailors heading to the red light district." He smiled. "I spent the rest of the morning getting wasted with the sub's skipper and XO. I guess the Chief-of-the-Boat had to hold her down while we were tossing back cold ones. That was a quality mission. Get real valuable intel and get drunk."  
  
Natsumi raised an eyebrow. "I remember that. You didn't show up to the station until, like, three that afternoon. You were still a little woozy. The head of the Investigative Division wanted to kill you."  
  
Arleigh laughed and tried to hide his embarrassment. "Yeah, that was pretty bad."  
  
"That still doesn't explain your disappearance," quipped Miyuki.  
  
"I was getting there." The American winked. "About four months ago, our mission got compromised by someone inside the Japanese government. I cannot stress just how few people in the government knew we were operating here. Not even the PM knew. So, someone inadvertently leaked our mission to a colleague who started asking too many questions so we scrapped the mission. Unfortunately, we weren't finished. We still had two more groups to go. Now, part of the reason why my cover was as a cop was so we could use the entire police force as our intelligence lackeys. I'd come in to work, say that I heard something through the grapevine about such and such a gang and y'all would go scurry around town and bring me back whatever you found. Mysteriously, shortly thereafter, a group would come in and wipe out the gang. Now, I wasn't the only deep cover. The rest of my team had deep cover identities. Some were bankers, accountants, advisors in JSDF, engineers, etc. Each had a specific job. The bankers and accountants were our money spies. They traced funding in and out of groups we were after. The advisors in JSDF got us some nice armored vehicles to use in a couple raids. My two engineers worked for the city planning department and tracked where gangs were located and got us floor plans for buildings we raided, sabotaged power lines, cut gas lines, planted microphones, and generally disrupted gang HQs right before we raided them.  
  
"Usually the CIA does deep cover stuff, but we in the military are not fond of the boys and girls from Langley at all. Remember I said I had authorization to pull the chain on any military units in and around Japan like with the submarine? Well, they wouldn't let the CIA do that so a military unit like Delta Force was deployed instead. Unfortunately for us, if a CIA op was discovered, well, tough kazubies. The CIA does that stuff all the time so the Japanese would probably say get the hell out of our country, fume for a while, and forget it. Now, a pure military operation on foreign soil outside the knowledge of even the Prime Minister, most of the cabinet members, and almost every provincial governing member would be viewed far worse than a CIA operation. So we had to get the hell out of Japan before that particular official asked the wrong question, or rather, the right question, and our cover would be really blown, we'd get arrested, and the whole country would be coming down on us. Now, I've been back for about a month now with my team. We're finishing our mission. One of the groups we left unchallenged was actually finished off by your own SWAT team. Kind of makes me wonder if going after them would've been a waste of time or not if a five-man SWAT unit could take out twenty guys and arrest forty. Not exactly sure what kind of terrorist group they were if they were that weak. Now, this other group we left unchallenged is the one that got y'all the other night. The only reason we even knew about you getting captured was because one of my guys was tailing the people who got you. He radioed in, we got a spy satellite tracking the truck you were in, located the compound, and planned a rescue mission."  
  
"All I can say is. wow.." Yoriko just stared at Arleigh. "And thanks."  
  
"Hey, not a problem. Just doing my job."  
  
Miyuki didn't look very happy. "You still lied to us. You lied to everyone."  
  
Arleigh covered his face and rubbed his temples. "Out of everyone here, I expected you to understand this the most, Miyuki. You know that I couldn't have just walked into NHK, got on the air and say 'Hey! I'm an American military officer here to kill off terrorists!' flash a thumbs-up and walk away. It doesn't work that way. Honestly, what should I have done?"  
  
"Well, for one, let more government officials know so you wouldn't have to turn tail and run away when someone 'accidentally' found out. And on that line, who did know? You speak as if at least some higher ups knew."  
  
"Oh, really? Tell more? That's the point of deep cover op. The less people who know, the better. A couple cabinet members knew. On the provincial level, only the local governor knew. Some parliament members knew. Some military officers knew in case we needed their assistance. Not many more people. I'm not exactly sure why I'm even authorized to tell you all this after the fact. I guess since you almost became the guards' personal toys and since you are on the investigation about the arms cache, command gave me the go ahead to tell you."  
  
"I guess not. But."  
  
Arleigh rolled his eyes. "But nothing. Hey, look, I'm sorry I deceived y'all, but that's what I had to do to succeed. I really enjoyed working with you. Outside of business, I was the real, everyday Arleigh Rivera, not the under-cover Arleigh. And, yes, I admit, it's weird that I was undercover as myself. Sort of. Kinda. Not really. Ah, hell. Anyway, after we take down this last group I'll probably be reassigned."  
  
"Where? Will we ever see you again?" Natsumi looked genuinely sad. It was sort of obvious to everyone that she had had feelings for Arleigh when he was a detective at the station.  
  
"Where? Probably the other side of the world. No joke. We usually never go to even the same hemisphere we operated in. Except in this special case. As for seeing me again? Yeah, I'll probably stop into the station this week to say hi. I've already worked up some BS reasons for having resigned on less than two days notice and disappeared. After that, I should have the location of the last strongholds of this group. They're actually quite big. We estimate their numbers around a thousand and a half, but they're weakly organized except for their upper echelon like those guys who got you. Once we eliminate their command structure, they'll fall apart and that threat should die. Then it's 'Mission Accomplished,' and good bye to Japan. Next stop, Fort Bragg, North Carolina, a few weeks of leave, then reassignment to some place around the world. Maybe Peru. Or maybe Chile. It's really nice there this time of year. Or I could get shipped out to some desolate wasteland in Eastern Europe." Arleigh visibly shuddered.  
  
Just then, there was a knock on the door.  
  
"It's open." Arleigh spun around in his chair.  
  
Jones poked his head in the doorway. "Sir? Can I see you for a moment?"  
  
"There's a Sergeant out here from the 160th SOAR who'll get you ready to go back home." The Lieutenant got up and walked out, shutting the door behind him. "What is it, Sarge?" The glum expression on the man's face immediately killed Arleigh's smile.  
  
"We were going over some of those documents you picked up at the camp. Did you look at them yet?"  
  
"No, why?"  
  
"You're going to want to see them right now."  
  
  
  
After Arleigh left, the Chief was the first to speak. "Has anyone considered how we're going to explain all this when we get back?  
  
Everyone responded no.  
  
"Well, I don't think we can tell them that Arleigh is in on this." Miyuki got a few looks. "Yes, okay, I know I just seemed mad that he lied but I do respect the position he's in and I don't want to do something that could get him hurt."  
  
The Chief nodded. "Exactly my thoughts. Now, if we leave relatively soon we should get back to the station by about..."  
  
Natsumi interjected quickly. "No, no way. I'm going home and I'm sleeping until tomorrow. I am not going back to work after this crap. No, sir. Not a chance."  
  
Aoi and Yoriko agreed.  
  
Ken spoke up next. "If we leave soon, we could get back by two o'clock. We'd all just be late for work. I wasn't even supposed to be in this morning so I can just say I overslept."  
  
"Lucky you, Nakajima." Natsumi rolled her eyes.  
  
"Just a thought."  
  
After pouring some more coffee from a container to his left, the Chief motioned to forestall any more comments from anyone. "Sorry, Tsujimoto, but we're going to the station. I say we go in and say we were captured. At least maybe our station will get more funding in the future to beef up security after this instance. I'm still furious that they weren't noticed. As for how we were rescued? Well, we were let go after they realized we were of no use, being the lowly traffic police that we are. How does that sound?"  
  
No one objected, and they spent the next twenty minutes pounding out details for when they were questioned by the investigations unit. Small details included their lack of knowledge as to the location of the camp. Simple, they were blindfolded on the way there, which they had been. The only things they had to make up were getting released in the city near the station that afternoon without any money, weapons, or cell-phones and having to walk to the station. It was a very crude plan, but it would hold up.  
  
Miyuki walked over to the door and opened it to see an American enlisted man standing across the hall. "Sergeant?" she said in her best English.  
  
"Yes, ma'am?" came the reply in flawless Japanese. "Please, speak Japanese."  
  
"Oh, thank you. Yes, Lieutenant Rivera said that you could arrange transportation for us back into the city?" 'Are all American soldiers taught Japanese? Jeez, every one of Arleigh's men spoke it and so does this guy,' thought the police officer. She didn't know that Arleigh had handpicked his team partly for their language skills.  
  
"Yes. I can't take you to the station directly, but I can get you into the general vicinity. Operational orders, sorry."  
  
"Oh, that's not a problem. In fact, that would be better."  
  
"Okay, sit tight and I'll be right back. I just need to go secure a van from the motor pool."  
  
"Thank you, Sergeant." Miyuki smiled as the man walked away.  
  
"Not a problem, ma'am," he called back.  
By two ten in the afternoon, the officers were walking into the Bokuto Police station. There had been a search going on for almost eighteen hours for the missing six. Apparently, their exodus had been noticed and a search began right away. The questioning began immediately by everyone around, but soon it was limited to a sort of interrogation by several detectives. All six were questioned together so the story they had created for their return to the world held up. The investigation into the arms cache now expanded to the officers' capture. However, they had all missed one detail, and Natsumi was the first to think of it during the interogation.  
  
'What if they find the camp where we were held? I don't think there was anything left to suggest we were there. Except for the six chairs, it should just look coincidental, right? Crap. This is all going to come back at us. I'll never work again.'  
  
Natsumi didn't realize just how hard and vicious their escapade would come back at all six of them, and at countless others who seemingly were uninvolved with the actions of the past day.  
  
  
  
QUESTIONS & COMMENTS: Bravo26Flashpoint@yahoo.com 


	3. Calm Before the Storm

The Siege  
Chapter 3: Calm Before the Storm  
By: JagdPanther  
  
The Kibosh was smiting people elsewhere, apparently. Several days passed and the story the six presented had stood. No reports came in anywhere in the entire Tokyo area about a shot-up compound having been found. Apparently the surviving guards had no intention of draw attention to their organization.  
  
Everyone fell into their regular routines. Everyone in the station was a bit shaken up about six officers being abducted in the "safety" of the Traffic Department. The six were a bit paranoid for the first couple of days. Not all the time is one taken from their workplace, soon thereafter bound to chairs and interrogated, and then involved in a large shoot-out with forty soldiers trying to kill you.  
  
Miyuki and Natsumi made their way around on morning patrol, stopping to see the young school children across the road as usual. The two found themselves more paranoid than usual, lest another group try and abduct them. Around lunch, they stopped at their favorite place.  
  
"You know, just because we can't see anyone doesn't meant that they're not there." Natsumi mumbled over her food.  
  
Miyuki nodded. "I know, but the least he could've done was tell us."  
  
"Well, I guess."  
  
"I just want to know if he has someone watching us. Nothing more. If he does, good. Then I don't have to divide my time between filing reports and scanning for people trying to take me hostage."  
  
"He probably does. I doubt he'd let us go without protection."  
  
"Then why can't we see them? The least they could do is let us know. What if we do notice them and we think they're criminals? Awkward, wouldn't you say?"  
  
Natsumi sighed. "Maybe it's not even people tailing us. He's military. He could have one of those American unmanned spy platforms hovering above us at all times."  
  
Miyuki glared. "I think I'd notice a small vehicle flying over my head."  
  
"You're a news buff, right? Didn't you watch the news when you were a teenager? Like when America invaded Iraq back around 2003? Remember what they had then? Those things don't hover above you, they fly at twice the cruising altitude of passenger jets. And they can see the date on a coin on the ground."  
  
"You seem to be defending him a lot lately. Everytime I express a little dissention you bolt to his aide." She sipped at her drink.  
  
"Is there a problem with that? I trust him and I don't particularly like you continually questioning this. The man saved our lives, Miyuki. And not just in that compound. He's gone out on a limb for us plenty of times." Natsumi was getting flustered.  
  
"You like him." Natsumi's voice spiked as she blurted back, "What!? What does that have to do with anything?"  
  
"Well, I just think that you're doing this because you like him. It's not hard to see."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"Why? Everyone always pesters me about Ken. I'm getting a little payback. Besides, you're always so truth and justice oriented, why are you failing to look at what's he did while deceiving us? How many crimes do you think he committed while he was posing as a police officer, supposedly upholding the law? Hmm? Murder, burglary, espionage? Just to name a few."  
  
Miyuki's words hit Natsumi hard. She wanted so badly to believe that Arleigh had done nothing wrong. "I don't like him like you like Nakajima, Miyuki." She held up her hand to stall a response, but it was obvious by the way her words had been rushed that she felt otherwise. "I respect him more than I do most people. He never failed to help either of us or anyone else at the station when they needed it. We got along well. I'm willing to look past all of that. You're a numbers person. Can you tell me just how much crime went down in the time he was here? Hmm? Can you? They took out twenty-five terrorist groups and gangs. That's twenty-five groups who can never hurt anyone again. All the street thugs who had their own little gangs saw what happened to the big groups and they got the crap scared out of them because they thought they might be next. I don't see murders or burglaries or spying. I see justice in a way that police can't provide. Just about the only thing I am miffed about is the endangering of any innocent people who might've been in the way. But I certainly can't help that. Nor can you. It's done. It's over. Those jerks can't hurt anyone else. Thanks to Arleigh and his soldiers."  
  
"Well, when you put it that way."  
  
"Yes, when I put it that way, that's how it looks. You can continue to think it was wrong and I won't hold it against you, but just think about it and make sure you're not letting anything cloud your judgement." Natsumi's face was getting slightly red.  
  
"Shouldn't that be what I tell you? I still think you're emotions are getting in the way."  
  
"Oh, drop it."  
  
The paid for lunch and left. No words were spoken the rest of the patrol. Upon returning to the station, they went their separate ways. Miyuki went to file a report while Natsumi went to weight room to get her mind off the conversation over lunch.  
  
  
  
Assistant Inspector Kinoshita stood at the front of the briefing room with her usual stiffness. "The Investigative unit has been unable to dig up anymore information on the weapons cache found eight days ago or the kidnappers of the six officers. As Senior Superintendent Arizuka told you, more manpower is being placed into the investigation. The Traffic Department has been tapped to provide as many people as possible. We must get to the bottom of this. I find it hard to believe that so many high- grade weapons were there for no reason. They have to be connected with something big. It could be a gang, it could be a gun runner, it could be a drug runner, it could be anything. We must know what they are for before it's too late."  
  
Everyone knew the drill. The same briefing was given every morning. It was two days since Miyuki and Natsumi's argument over lunch. They were back to normal, no hard feelings. As for the rest of the station, everyone was slowly feeling more at ease. Fear of another kidnapping was fading. Arleigh still hadn't stopped by, contrary to what he had said that morning over a week ago. But that would soon change.  
  
Ken stood up after the briefing and stretched. "Well, I don't have patrol this morning so I'm heading down to the firing range. You girls want to come along?" He gestured to Bokuto's famous pair sitting next to him.  
  
"Sure, I could use to the practice." Natsumi cracked her knuckles. Miyuki nodded and the trio made their way down to the basement range.  
  
As they went down the stairs, Ken's blood began rushing to his face as he stammered out a small proposal. "You know, Kobayakowa, would you like to go see a movie tomorrow night?"  
  
It was apparent to everyone over the past few weeks that Miyuki was getting a bit more comfortable with the relationship that her fellow officers had almost forced upon her. She smiled broadly and replied, "Sure! I'd love to get out and do something! I have afternoon patrol tomorrow with Natsumi and we should be back by 6:30 PM. How about after then?"  
  
A little sweat dribbled down the back of his neck as he said, "Yeah, that would be great. We can go out to dinner afterwards, too, I guess." He seemed quite happy at the ease of her response.  
  
"That'd be perfect, Ken." Her spirits obviously skyrocketing, Miyuki seemed to glide down the last few steps and into the range area.  
  
They opened up their small lockers in the back of the range and removed their ear-protectors and pistols. Miyuki and Natsumi had Italian-made Beretta 92s, the civilian version of Arleigh's military-issue pistol. Ken used an older American Colt 1911 Government .45-calibre sidearm.  
  
All three officers were very accurate and the talked in-between shots about various things related to the weapons cache. After each had gone through a target paper each, some commotion started up at the end of the range where a few other officers were honing their skills. They all turned to see Arleigh laughing with the officers over a joke. They hadn't noticed, but he'd been there for about five minutes already. He shook hands with the officers and made his way down to the trio.  
  
He wore his typical grand smile. A pair of expensive Oakley's was caught- up above his eyebrows. "Hey! Didn't think you'd see me, huh? Just got into town a few days ago. I'm here on business. I'm with the Los Angeles Police Department now. Moved over there. I'm so sorry I didn't give y'all more of a notice, but the position was only open for a little while so I had to get over there fast. How have you been? It's been a long time, Miyuki, Ken, Natsumi." He winked at the brown-haired woman.  
  
'Time for a little acting,' thought Miyuki. "Arleigh! Wow, what a surprise!"  
  
"Long time no see, Rivera." Ken extended his hand while holstering his pistol.  
  
"Great to see you, Arleigh!" Natsumi's own spirits were up.  
  
The four chatted for a while to keep the façade up. Soon Arleigh withdrew his own pistol from his the bag he was carrying and loaded a magazine.  
  
Miyuki eyed him, questioningly. "You know, you're not a cop here anymore, Arleigh. You can't have that."  
  
"Eh, special permission. So, yes I can." His smile broadened as he took a stance in the last lane of the range. Arleigh pressed the target controller to move the target to the farthest position it could go away. "One 'Happy-Happy Smile' coming right up." In eight short seconds, Arleigh proved that what Riggs had done in Lethal Weapon was more than possible. The target returned to the firing point and Arleigh removed it from the clip. Ten bullet holes formed a smiley face in the paper.  
  
"That never ceases to amaze me." Miyuki marveled at the placement of the holes. Not even a machine hole-puncher could have done such a good job.  
  
"Yes, us Americans have way too much time on our hands so we perfect things as obnoxious as that." His laugh filled the range.  
  
Ken eyed the duffel bag Arleigh had brought in with him. "Hey, Arleigh, what's in the bag?"  
  
"Ah, nothing much. Just some random stuff I had left here that I picked up before I came down. Papers, a spare pair of shorts I had left in the gym lockers, etc."  
  
"Oh."  
  
They talked and shot for about forty minutes, with Arleigh playing a little shooting coach and helping all three officers increase their accuracy. Arleigh stayed in the range to talk with some more people filing into the range after hearing of his return. The three made their way back up to the Traffic Department area.  
  
Miyuki spoke up first. "Hey, Chief, you know Arleigh stopped in."  
  
"Yes, I am aware of that, Kobayakowa. He already stopped in to say hello. By the way, you and Tsujimoto have just been reassigned to the investigative division for the time being. No more patrolling for you too until their release you. I hate to lose my two best people, but they need the help. Tokuno wants to see you right away."  
  
The two saluted, got a few things together, and left. It was only 10:30 AM.  
  
  
  
Arleigh left his bag in the range locker room and made his way up to the cafeteria with several former colleagues to get some coffee. He talked awhile about cases that he was making up on the spot that he had supposedly dealt with in Los Angeles over the past four months. The group loved the stories. 'Honesty is not always the best policy. Heh,' thought Arleigh as he spoke.  
  
Soon, the group broke up to continue working. Arleigh mentioned that he'd be in Tokyo for another couple weeks so he'd stop again if he had more time. Next stop was the range locker room and then back to a safe house just over the Sakura Bridge.  
  
The "operator," a term specifically denoting a Delta Force soldier, made sure the locker room was clear before going to work. He had to move quickly. Three security cameras made sure the entire room could be seen clearly. 'Almost the entire room,' he thought. 'There's a blind spot under that one over there. I remember that from when I used to work here. The vent grate can't be seen by any of the cameras. Perfect.' Arleigh moved casually down the row of lockers and made as if he was going to sit on the floor, doing his shoes. He looked straight up and made sure he was completely out of view by the cameras. In one swift move he rolled up onto his feet and turned around to hug the wall. He was taking no chances of being seen. With his foot, he pulled over his duffel bag. Next he extracted a small screwdriver from the bag and began taking the grate off the wall. It was a bit above his six-foot frame. Very few people in the station were tall enough to do this without a ladder. After taking the grate down he pulled himself up to look in. 'Nothing. Good.' He lowered himself down and extracted another bag from the duffel. Arleigh slid the bag into the vent and pushed it back far enough that even he could get at it without lifting himself up on the duct's edge. He did so to make sure he could grab it while holding himself up with one hand. Pulling himself into the duct itself, he opened the bag and checked the contents to make sure everything was okay, and everything was perfectly alright. He dropped back down and quickly replaced the vent. Rivera checked the duffel bag at his feet to make sure that the documents he had swiped from the operations room and Investigations Department were still there. 'These should be helpful. I'll have Intel go over them as soon as I get back to the safe house.' Two officers entered the locker room just as he finished dusting himself off. 'They need to clean this place. Just not anytime soon, hopefully.' Arleigh said hello to the officers. 'Newbies. I have no clue who they are. Nor do they know me. Good.' The American left the room, quietly singing to himself the lyrics of Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap.  
  
  
  
The next day, Arleigh was sitting at a table in the safe house drinking coffee, looking over the papers he had boosted from the station. Master Sergeant Jake Anderson, the Delta unit's executive officer (XO) sat at the other side of the table, likewise reading one of the documents.  
  
"Jake, this really bothers me."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Quite honestly, I don't think that station knows what these are. These things are suggesting something major. Like, bigger than huge. If that makes any sense."  
  
Anderson rubbed his eye and grimaced. "Yeah, I get what you're saying. These look like timetables for the Tokyo freight train lines. Find out what's running on these lines then. Could be something important like money or military equipment. And the dates they look at coincide with that movement arrow on the map. I wish we had a better map than this one you got at the compound."  
  
"Yeah, sorry. We were moving too quick. I guess I should've had a few more people help me grab stuff. Anyway, Jones brought this stuff to my attention right after I told them about the Delta Op. In one week, I have made no progress in figuring this stuff out. Which reminds me, why the hell would SOCOM authorize me to tell them about our operation? That blows my mind."  
  
"That confused me, too. I know you trust those officers, but I can't see SOCOM trusting them at all. Not that I meant that by trusting them you'd freely tell them."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Arleigh downed the last bit of coffee in the cup. "Okay, about the map. One thought I just was that this could be a tactical map. Look, all the major roads have markers like we use to show tank drivers what roads they can and cannot use for movement. There isn't a key to the map, but I'm betting this marker means "armory," like we use on maps of bases."  
  
"Interesting. You're right, they are the same. Disturbing, too. Look how many of those markers there are. Most of them look like larger buildings, too. Could be warehouses."  
  
"Yeah. You know, I'm going to check some of these places out. I want at least two other guys doing the same. Pick some people who know the area well and send them to the markers in this area here and the area here. I'm getting a bad feeling about this."  
  
At the end of the day, all three men returned from their scavenger hunt and a general meeting of the Delta operators was held. The findings were discussed as well as possible plans of action.  
  
Arleigh looked out at his troops. "This is the first time in my life that I want to be very, very, very wrong. Anderson, brief the SOAR boys. Jones, get on the horn to Camp Fuji. Tell them I'm going to need at least a company of Marines out of the 3rd MEF shipped over here and placed on standby. I want their HMMWVs, too. Morris, you see about getting us some help from those units out of the 25th Infantry Division training around Torii Station on Okinawa. I think it's parts of 1st Brigade and of 4th Brigade. That means they've probably got 2nd/14th Cavalry with them and their choppers. I want their armor and their choppers on standby, if possible. Everyone else, we've got a little mission. I need four volunteers to come with me and commandeer a small boat. It's carrying a weapons shipment down the Yokojukken River around 0100 Hours local time. Clandestine op, of course. Silenced MP5s, silenced pistols. No neutrals or good guys aboard so we'll be weapons free. If it moves, shoot it. In- depth briefing en-route to the Insertion Point. Any takers?"  
  
Ryker raised his hand and yawned. "Yeah, I need the exercise."  
  
  
  
A few more days passed. Very little was learned of the first cache found. That was because Natsumi and Miyuki found a second cache in a parked truck that had been hit by a drunk driver. The investigators had released them for the day due to lack of happenings in the case.  
  
This time the cache didn't contain just SWAT grade pistols and submachine guns, but it also contained several military rifles. The rifles were the HOWA Machinery Corps Type-89 5.56mm Assault Rifles, the same kind used by the JSDF. The entire station was getting edgy. What could anyone possible be doing with these weapons? Better yet, how were the getting them? More people were tasked to the investigation and a few officers arrived from other precincts to help out. Miyuki left her communications station in the large conference room-turned-operations station to go to the morning briefing. She caught up with Natsumi who was carrying CDs full of slides for the projector's computer.  
  
"This is getting so aggravating. I wish we could get a break. All these weapons can't be for something as simple as a little drug gang. There are probably lots more out there, all for some grand purpose. But I don't know what that purpose is." Miyuki stared out the windows at the rising sun while she walked down the corridor.  
  
"I know, but all the leads are dry. Unless someone discovers something big soon, we might have to drop the investigation. And I agree that there are probably more caches out there with more weapons, maybe far more dangerous weapons. But we can't just go searching every car in Tokyo for them." Natsumi sighed and entered opened the door to the briefing room.  
  
"Glad you could join us, Tsujimoto and Kobayakowa. Please, take a seat." Superintendent Arizuka was also quite annoyed at how the whole investigation was going. Natsumi walked up to him and handed him the CDs. "Thank you," he replied tersely. "Alright, let's get this underway, shall we, Inspector Kinoshita?"  
  
"Yes, sir." The tall Assistant Inspector began her usual speech that everyone was now accustomed too. In the past week, hackers began attacking the traffic system around the precinct. Random traffic lights would lose power and intersections would have no order to them. Accidents were steadily increasing, and, unfortunately, so were the fatalities. Then telephone communication grids began failing on a daily basis. There was no way to tell if the incidents were in anyway linked to the caches, but it was easy to see that the hackers could very well be proceeding with preemptive strikes. If they wanted to, the hackers could easily take down every vital system in the area and create chaos on an unheard of level.  
  
However, she began to allude to some new documents that had been found on the ground near a railroad bridge south west of the station.  
  
Just as Kinoshita was about to delve deeper into the material, Arleigh slipped in the door and took a seat next to Natsumi.  
  
Kinoshita stopped and looked at him. "Ah, Detective Rivera. I see you were able to make it. People, I've asked Arleigh to help us since this was his specialty when he was with us."  
  
Arizuka spoke up from his seat next to the Assistant Inspector. "Correct. I've already cleared him, so you can talk with him freely about anything on the case."  
  
"Glad to be working with y'all again." Arleigh waved to everyone in the room quickly. He leaned his chair back against the wall and motioned for Kinoshita to proceed.  
  
"Hey, Arleigh." Natsumi was all smiles.  
  
He returned the expression and patted her on the shoulder. "Hi Natsumi."  
  
Kinoshita resumed the briefing. She motioned for the projector man to put up a slide of the first document. Everyone studied the document for a few moments. "This along with several other documents was found yesterday by a patrol officer who thought it was litter. When he saw that the papers were all marked with this seal, he remembered the flyer in the station showing this crest." Using a sleek laser pointer, she highlighted the small crest at the bottom of the paper. The Investigations Department had printed up flyers and distributed them around the station with the crest on it. "We found a similar crest on the papers officers Kobaykowa and Tsujimoto found the other day. I'm asking now, does any one have any idea what these papers could be? As you can see, this one is simply a spreadsheet with many numbers attached to alphanumeric designations. Most of the other ten documents are the same except for two, which are unreadable. All the ink ran because the papers were sitting in a puddle." Arleigh raised his hand. "Yes, Detective?"  
  
"Yeah, can you put the other ones up? Just for about ten seconds each."  
  
"Very well."  
  
All the documents were shown, including the unreadable ones.  
  
"Hmm. That is very puzzling indeed." Arleigh pulled a silver SONY PDA from his right pocket and brought up a few papers stored on the tiny hard-drive.  
  
"Do you see something in them?" Kinoshita didn't get an answer. "Detective."  
  
"Hold on, I want to check something really quick. I have a vague idea of what those are. Just hold on. If they're not what I think they are, then I won't bother mentioning what my thought was because it might not be something." He trailed off.  
  
"Something what?"  
  
"Something that wouldn't be very politically correct to mention. Something bad."  
  
"Uh huh. Moving along, while Arleigh doesn't answer me, does anyone else have something to say about these?"  
  
Nobody could make heads or tails of the sheets.  
  
"Holy shit." Arleigh was holding up the PDA and shifting his eyes laterally between it and the projector screen. "Oh my God." Everyone turned to look at him.  
  
"What is it, Rivera?"  
  
"Something extremely bad that I had hoped it wasn't. Damnit, I need to make a phone call." He jumped up and rushed out the door.  
  
"Rivera! Get back in here!" Kinoshita yelled at his retreating body. "Tsujimoto, go get him back in here.  
  
"Yes, ma'am!"  
  
Outside, Arleigh was on his cell-phone yelling in English. "Yes! Tell the Marines to haul some ass! And the damn Tropics! ["Tropic Lighting" is the nickname of the U.S. Army's 25th Infantry Division; likewise, "Tropics" is Army slang for 25th ID troops] I am not kidding! It's just what we feared. Yes. Exactly. No, I it hasn't started. No. No. Yes. Well, I'd hope so. Of course. Get everyone together and get them here on the double. No, bring the HMMWVs. Yes, broad daylight. We're going to need them. Yes. Anything and everything. And my gear, yes. Thanks, almost forgot that. Contingency plan? No clue. I'll think of something. Yeah, you know the general layout. Right. I'll arm them as soon as possible. Stuffs' in the range locker room. I'm heading there right now. Roger. I'll be expecting y'all. Over and out."  
  
Natsumi stood in front of him. "Arleigh, what the hell was that all about? What's going on? Who was that on the phone?"  
  
"Never mind that. Go back in there and tell everyone to go get all the guns in this place locked and loaded. I have to go do something. I'll explain as soon as I get back."  
  
With that, Arleigh sprinted down the hall and down all the stairs to the range. Using a small crowbar held to the wall next to a fire alarm, Arleigh ripped the grating off of the wall in the locker room. He used the bar to drag the bag out of the hole. It dropped to the floor with a clack. Arleigh ripped the zipper back and extracted his M4A1 Compact-Assault- Rifle. Along with it he grabbed some military web-gear in the bag. Webbing is a pair of suspender-like utility belts that soldiers wear like a jacket. The straps go up the left of right front of a person, crisscross along the back, and run around the waist where the whole set-up is clipped. On the webbing were two M67 fragmentation grenades, an M18 Smoke Grenade, an M14 Incendiary grenade, and three pouches filled with two magazines each for the rifle. Already he wore a tactical hip-holster with his Beretta M9 pistol in it. Kicking the empty bag to the side he ran back upstairs to the briefing room, the police still sitting, discussing Arleigh's reaction. They were horrified by his new attire after he burst back into the room.  
  
"Everyone, listen up! These documents suggest that the 7th District Police Headquarters, this very Bokuto Station, along with most of Sumida Ward will be hit hard by a massive terrorist attack involving military equipment. The spreadsheets are code and number listings that denote Japanese Self Defense Force equipment including tanks, Armored-Personnel- Carriers, trucks, jeeps, mortars, everything. I'm willing to bet that those other two documents are marching orders or a freight train schedule. I have no time to explain anything more. Right now, you all need to get every damn gun in this building locked and loaded! NOW!"  
  
Arizuka boomed, "Wait just one minute, damnit! Rivera! What the hell is this all about? You're going to explain everything right now. How the hell do you know all this?"  
  
"Look, I said I have no time to explain! Just do what I say! Get all the damn guns from the armory! Do it! Kobayakowa, go back to the op center and start telling every unit out on patrol to get the hell out of the Ward. Tell them do not chase any trucks for any reason whatsoever. Just get out of the damn area and tell them to keep anyone from coming into the Ward over the bridges! Any civilians coming out of the area, let them out. Also, monitor for any communications coming in from American military units. Tsujimoto, Nakajima, Aoi, Yoriko, and you two," he yelled, pointing at the two officers he had met in the locker room, "go get all the ammunition for the guns, since you people don't keep the freakin' guns and ammo in the same place. Everyone else, get the guns and barricade every entrance to this place. Sound a general alarm for the station."  
  
With that, Arleigh rushed out of the room. The only thing that anyone could do was to listen to him. He had scared them in to action. Within fifteen minutes the guns and ammunition had been consolidated and most people were armed with either their personal sidearms or heavier weapons from the armory.  
  
Kinoshita ran up to Arleigh. "I believe you. Miyuki was telling the patrols to leave and they, well, got shot at by a column of trucks boiling out of the warehouse district. They got out all right, another squad car picked them up and they're out of the area. I called the local governor to get an evacuation order put out."  
  
Arleigh paled. "Kaoruko, that is going to cause mass chaos! Civilians are going to be all over the place and they're going to get killed! That's why I didn't mention an evacuation order back there!"  
  
"But."  
  
"Never mind! Just go help with barricading the station." He looked at his watch. "Reinforcements should be ten minutes out! Move it!"  
  
"Wait, reinforcements, what?"  
  
"Just get your weapons! Those trucks are headed here!" Arleigh dashed down to the main entrance. The storm was about to strike.  
QUESTIONS & COMMENTS: Bravo26Flashpoint@yahoo.com 


	4. Small Beginnings

The Siege  
Chapter 4: Small Beginnings  
By JagdPanther  
  
'Okay, so maybe it wasn't just ten minutes.' Arleigh looked at his watch. 'My luck, they're stuck in traffic or something and I'll be defending this place all by myself.' He looked at three patrolmen wielding recently-captured Type-89 rifles taking cover near the main entrance. 'Almost by myself. Not that these guys are going to be much help when the firefight breaks out. We're all so screwed if those reinforcements don't get here soon.'  
  
The intercom came alive at the front desk. It was Kinoshita. "Arleigh! Power is going out all over the Ward! One grid-square at a time! Phone service is........"  
  
'Out. Yeah, I figured this would happen.' The lights flickered and went out. 'Yippy.'  
  
"Rivera!" Arizuka rumbled over. "I'm going have you arrested for this. Starting a damn mutiny in this station! And ordering my officers around! They should be instilling order in the streets and you have them running away! You'll be spending the rest of your life in prison! You're finished!"  
  
A deep banging noise erupted outside the station. The sound confused the police, but to the trained ears of Arleigh it meant death was about a kilometer away, and closing fast. "You hear that, Superintendent? Hmm? That's the sound of a .51 Calibre machine gun cutting down some poor sap in the street right now. And I guess this massive power outage, as well as communications failing, are all just a wonderful coincidence. As for your officers, guess what? I care about them so much that I have them running away. Why? Because if they stick around when the real shooting starts, they will be slaughtered by the droves. I suggest that you shut up and get back to the operations center if you don't want to meet your maker in the next few minutes. And find someone who can spin up the station's generators. We're going to need power." He flipped the fire selector over to full automatic. "Boys, rifles at the ready." Just then, the firing stopped. "That's odd. I thought they'd come in here shooting wild." A green camouflaged American HMMWV came into view from the direction of the firing, followed by two more. "Hold your fire! Hoo-ah! Reinforcements have arrived!" Jumping to his feet, Arleigh told the men to stay put and rushed out to greet the vehicles.  
  
Master Sergeant Anderson jumped out of the lead HMMWV and saluted his commanding officer. "Sorry we're late, Lieutenant. Got caught in traffic. Took em' out with the fifties." He motioned to the .50-Calibre machine guns on top of the trucks. "Pickup trucks with ChiCom .51-Cal machine guns."  
  
"Not surprising. Well, they've met with resistance. Now they're going to start throwing more gas on the fire. My gear, please."  
  
"Right away. McMichael, get the L-T's stuff!"  
  
The dark-haired man from Arkansas ducked into the second HMMWV from his post on the .50-cal and produced a large rucksack and rifle case. Arleigh ran over and retrieved the items.  
  
"Thanks! Okay, Anderson, set up two of the Hummers flanking the entrance. Bring the third one with the trailer around back to the motor pool area. That will be our supply dump for when the Marines arrive. If they ever get here, of course. After that, bring the truck back around and support the left flank with the .50-Cal. The rest of the station is walled in." The station and the surroundings were simple, which made defense much easier. Windowed with large panes on all sides, the station provided excellent visibility. Walls surrounded the station except for the main entrance and a gated service entrance at the rear, now being covered by several officers with the captured weapons. The garages for the squad cars formed part of the easterly and northeasterly walls. Pavement ran all around the station, inside the wall and out. In front, there was a large turnaround for vehicles and a two-lane exit that opened directly onto the street. The walls themselves were 22cm thick concrete. Arleigh knew that in the fight to come, that 22cm would not be enough to stop even a tiny 4- cylinder car at high speed. And 60-ton tanks would eventually enter the fight once the terrorists realized that the station was being defended.  
  
"My guess is they won't be expecting too much resistance so they'll come the easiest route, which is right through here. Understand? Good, now move it!" With that, he rushed back inside and jumped behind the front desk, stripping out of his webbing, his shorts, and his shirt.  
  
"What the hell are you doing?" yelled one of the officers.  
  
Arleigh flipped a bird. "Shut up and watch the damn road, you moron!" He opened the rucksack and took out a light-gray city-camouflage uniform. Rolling his lower body into the air and supporting himself on his upper back, he jammed his legs into the pants and zipped them up. After putting on and buttoning up his shirt, he put on a Delta-issue flak-jacket and returned his webbing. Next came his combat boots and helmet. Grabbing the personal radio next, he donned the headset and dropped the radio inside his collar and down his back inside the shirt. He grabbed the set before it fell out and onto the floor, strapping it to his utility belt. Then he tucked his shirt in and refastened his hip holster. From the sack he also took another fragmentation grenade, another smoke grenade, two flash-bang disorientation devices, and another ammo pouch with two more magazines for his rifle. There was also a canteen full of water, a K-Bar combat knife in a sheath, and his M4A1's silencer, 4x scope, Harris Bi-pod, M203 grenade launcher with three 40-mm grenades, and a Remington 570 "Master-Key" 12- guage shotgun inside the sack. Currently, his rifle was stripped down with only a Reflex sight mounted. He took out the canteen, and clipped it to his belt. The knife got strapped to his ankle. Out came the scope, which he attached after ditching the Reflex sight. Lashing open the rifle case, he extracted a Heckler & Koch MSG-90A1 Designated Marksman Rifle, which he shouldered, with the strap running upper-left to lower-right across his front to keep the rifle from jostling around too much. All told, the entire process from start to finish took a little over two minutes, twenty seconds.  
  
Anderson came inside after setting up the three HMMWVs at the entrance to cover the entire front area with their heavy machine guns. "All ready, sir. We've got twelve guys including you and me. Three on the fifties, and three assistant gunners. That leaves me, you, and Ryker, with the extra radio, free."  
  
"That'll have to do for now. Okay, you and Ryker go up to the operations center and set up the radio. Take the rest of the guys and have them cover the rear, right, and left of the building with the M240 medium machine guns. The fifties have the front. Find out how long those Marines are going to be. Then take up over-watch positions on the fourth floor, same floor I want the gunners on. Break the windows. You can reach me on the com-set if you need me. Got it?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Good. Now move your asses. And take my rucksack and the rifle case up there, too. I'm going to need to put the grenade launcher on later when I have time." Arleigh ran out to the first HMMWV as more firing erupted from down the street. "Stevens, make sure you identify your targets before you shoot. We've got a lot of civilians in the area." The firing got closer and closer. Quickly Arleigh told the other gunners the same thing.  
  
Just as Arleigh began running back to the entrance, he heard Stevens yell over the com-set, "Incoming Technicals!"  
  
They were ungainly things, pickup trucks of various makes with large machine guns fitted on stands welded to the truck bed. The first one power- slide in the street until it was perpendicular to the walls. That doomed the gunner. Struggling against Newton's laws of motion, the gunner clung to the spade handles on the machine gun. Before the gunner could stand up again, Stevens bracketed the vehicle and laced it with fire from his own heavy machine gun. Rounds slashed through the windshield, instantly killing the driver. John Browning's almost century-old design still packed a massive punch. The gun's rounds had once been considered cannon-fire when dealing with World War I tanks. Modern automobiles were no different. Shells ripped the truck apart. An explosion sent it hurtling back into a parking lot on the other side of the street. McMichael joined in the firing as two more technicals attempted to enter the station. They met similar fates to the first truck. Fourth, fifth, and sixth trucks were destroyed, forming a barrier of rapidly burning rubble. A seventh rammed into a car in the parking lot after rifle fire from Anderson, Ryker, and two policemen up above eliminated the driver and gunner. Firing was still heard around the station, but it wasn't getting closer. Civilians on the streets who witnessed the assault ran for their lives. Some people ran to cars and began driving away. Hopefully they'd make it across the bridges before more enemy forces arrived and they were trapped in the Ward. Still others moved indoors to escape the fighting. All over the Sumida Ward people were finding that they were under attack by armed savages. Anyone who didn't take cover was shot. Arleigh watched from the fourth floor of the station as the chaos began, wondering when the next attack would come.  
  
"This is going to be a slaughter." He spun on his heels and entered the operations room.  
  
  
  
Miyuki was at a radio when the electricity went out. Immediately the AC-powered unit died. "Inspector! We've lost communications!"  
  
The taller woman grimaced. "Damnit! The phones are out, too. Everyone, try your cell phones." Following her own order, she turned hers on to find that service was out. "Wonderful."  
  
Natsumi burst in the door. "There's shooting going on out there! Coming down the road!" The three, accompanied by two other officers, ran to the windows out in the hall and watched as three trucks raced down the road, the last one firing back at a ball of flame, which crashed into a tree in the sidewalk. Making their way into the station, the trucks were greeted by Arleigh. Arizuka arrived and asked if anyone knew how to turn on the generators for the building.  
  
"Yes, I know how to."  
  
"Good. Take whoever you need and get them on."  
  
Miyuki selected Natsumi and Aoi and quickly left.  
  
Within a few minutes two men arrived at the operations center. Ryker spoke while Anderson took out some windows. "People, we're American soldiers. We're here to help defend this place. I need a place to set up this radio equipment." He jiggled the large set he was carrying.  
  
"Right in here." Kinoshita led the man into the ops center. Ryker has begun tuning in the set just as Anderson called him out to deal with the attackers.  
  
  
  
The three female officers emerged from the stairwell in the basement. Using some flashlights they picked up along the way, they quickly moved towards the generator room. Inside were two large generators capable of powering vital station systems, such as phones, lights, radio and satellite transmitters and receivers, and ventilation. The control panels to operate the generators had large deep-cycle marine batteries to power them.  
  
"Okay, Aoi, when I give you the go, flick the first six switches by your left hand to the 'on' position. Natsumi, the same for you." Miyuki made sure the pumps, working on battery, were supplying enough fuel to start the generators. Then she checked all the valves for leaks. After a few minutes of preparation, she went over to the primary control board and turned on the starters for both generators. "Now!"  
  
The switches were flicked on. Immediately the generators thrummed to life. Lights came on all over the station. They shut off their flashlights and began to trek back upstairs, grabbing some weapons left behind in room next to the boilers by officers hastily gathering arms. Passing the armory on the third floor, they grabbed ammunition and several flak-vests for themselves and others. Next they went around the building to the temporary sleeping quarters for officers. Inside they found extra clothes. Quickly, they ditched their uniforms and put on pants and shirts they used for running in the mornings before patrol. The uniforms would hamper them if fighting broke out.  
  
"Do you two think it's going to be as bad as he says it will be?" Aoi was tucking in her shit as the group exited the quarters area.  
  
Miyuki's shoulders sank as she responded, "I hope not. There's not much we can do except wait and see what happens. And I think if any of us believed that if it wouldn't be bad that we'd be down here preparing for the worst."  
  
"I guess so." She pushed her long hair back behind her shoulders and picked up the gear they had left on the floor beside the door.  
  
Grabbing several submachine guns, Miyuki said "Hey, Natsumi?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Do you believe Arleigh? I mean, do you think he's crazy or something? I've never seen him so flustered before. Maybe he's lost it."  
  
"I honestly don't know. I'd like to think that I know him, but I've never seen him this way, either. Maybe that's because the situations before haven't been so ominous."  
  
They returned to the operations room and were astonished to see burning wreckage outside. That made them believe the former detective real fast.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Just a little fight to kick off, ma'am," responded Ryker, who was listening intently to the radio he had set up.  
  
Arleigh came in a couple minutes after the officers. "SITREP, now. What's going on?"  
  
Kinoshita looked up from the laptop she was at. "The phones are still down, so are the cell-phones. Radio contact was reestablished with most units. Some ran into trouble while reporting in. They tried to take on some of those terrorists. Most units made it across the bridges. There's mass chaos. Civilians are fleeing across the bridges. A lot of them are getting shot at by the enemy. Headquarters is aware of the situation and it mobilizing every SWAT team in the entire police force. One of the units just passed a convoy of trucks flying American flags while moving out of the Ward. More of your people?"  
  
"Should be." Arleigh shifted to English. "Ryker, any word from the Marines?"  
  
"Yes, sir. They are encountering light resistance. Men with AKs, machine guns, and RPGs. No casualties yet. Captain Surai suggests ETA about 20 minutes. They picked up a police officer and two civilians being attacked by some aggressors."  
  
"Ah, hell. Is that all? How about those boys from the 25th ID?"  
  
"Still working on it, sir. We notified Pacific Command on the way in. They weren't too pleased that were deploying without authorization and that we've hijacked several units for our own use, but they are aware of the situation. They are contacting the Japanese government right now to negotiate terms on which we can use air support and naval gunfire support. Wait, hold on, sir, message coming through."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Sir, JGSDF reports that they have lost contact with the train transporting the 2nd Brigade, 1st Japanese Army Division."  
  
"Damnit! All right, this is our new Tactical Operations Center. Ryker, plug into that laptop for information purposes. I want satellite images downloaded, pronto. Especially of that damn train! I want to know how long before I've got them bearing down on me." Now he was back to Japanese. "Okay, new order of business. Kinoshita, there are civilians flocking into the station as a result of the fighting. I need you to get as many people as possible and start taking care of them, especially any who are wounded.  
  
"Right away!"  
  
"Anderson! Come with me. We're going to get some heavier weapons from the trailer. We're going to need 'em when the terrorists show up with goddamn tanks and APCs."  
  
  
  
"Please! Don't let them hurt me! Please!" The woman was flipping out. A bullet from a passing technical had grazed her leg. It was very hard for her to walk. And she was making it very hard for Natsumi to deal with the wound.  
  
"You have to calm down, ma'am. I can't help you if you don't." She pressed hard on the wound with some gauze. "You're going to be fine. Just calm down. Deep breaths."  
  
Sobbing, the woman spat back, "I can't! Oh, I can't!"  
  
"Yes, you can! Please, calm down."  
  
"Not so tight! Not so tight!" the woman wailed.  
  
"If I let up, you'll bleed too much!" Natsumi quickly realized that she shouldn't have said that because the woman became even more inconsolable. 'Wonderful.'  
  
They had taken the civilians into several different parts of the station, but most were in the cafeteria. Now about fifteen officers were attending to them. Most were just plain shocked at what they had seen and heard. One woman described it as a war zone. She was right.  
  
Shortly after 11:30 AM, two Navy Corpsman entered the cafeteria. They had just arrived in the Marine convoy. Both knew rather good Japanese. Natsumi entertained the same thought that Miyuki had had over a week before when wondering if all American soldiers knew Japanese. These Corpsman were from Camp Fuji, about 30 kilometers west of Tokyo. Likewise, they needed to know at least rudimentary Japanese to interact with the local population. One man took over for Natsumi in helping the wounded woman. "I'll take care of her, now, ma'am. You can go."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Natsumi!" Yoriko ran across the room. She was obviously a little distraught. This sort of situation wasn't something anyone expected her to handle well. "Those Americans just brought in Ken!"  
  
"What? Oh my, I completely forgot he wasn't here! Is he all right?"  
  
"Yes, yes, he's fine. He's got a couple small bruises. Miyuki's bringing him down now."  
  
"Why? If he isn't hurt, then why is he coming here with the civilians?"  
  
Miyuki approached from across the room with Ken by her side. "More soldiers just arrived. Well, I guess you already saw. Arleigh wants most of us to stay here with the civilians. There's about a hundred and fifty Marines up there now taking over for the police guarding the entrances. He said that this is something we shouldn't get involved with."  
  
Natsumi fumed "To hell with that! Those jerks are shooting at innocent people! Arleigh can't stop me from helping fight them!"  
  
Miyuki tried to calm her down. "Please, don't do that. These aren't simple criminals. They're trained killers."  
  
Nakajima rubbed at a bruise on his left forearm. His jacket arm had been torn away by something. "She's right, Natsumi. Those guys are vicious. I couldn't just let them hurt that couple, but, they almost killed me. Thankfully those Marines picked me up."  
  
The part about almost getting killed made Miyuki cringe. "Arleigh is letting me help out in the operations room, but that's about it. He says if things get too bad he's putting me down here."  
  
"I'm coming too. I won't just sit around doing nothing!" Natsumi followed her.  
  
"Wait for me, Miyuki! Natsumi!" Ken chased after them.  
  
Yoriko sat down at a table and quietly contemplated what she was going to do. She could help or she could stay down here with the civilians. 'I'm a policewoman. I can't just sit here and do nothing! There's got to be something I can do!' And with that, she walked out of the cafeteria.  
  
  
  
"Sir, Captain Surai reports that he is two minutes from the station according to the map he has."  
  
"Very well. I'm going down to meet them."  
  
In the time since Arleigh had ordered the police to begin helping the civilians, another technical had attempted to attack the station. It came at the service entrance, but the police officers held it off rather easily from their perches a few stories above the ground. Tokuno and the Chief each shot the driver and gunner before the truck reached the gate, preventing it from collapsing the only barrier protecting the service entrance. Arleigh thought, 'Well, they've done well so far. I wonder how they'll react when the troops and tanks arrive.'  
  
Just as he reached the main entrance, a sixteen-truck convoy pulled into the station, the lead truck battering the burned-out hulks of the pickups aside. A Marine Captain jumped out of the first truck and greeted him.  
  
"Captain Vincent Surai, United States Marine Corps, 3rd Marine Expeditionary Force. Where do you want my guys, Lieutenant?"  
  
"First Lieutenant Arleigh Rivera, U.S. Army, Delta Force. Sir, just disembark them all here and put the trucks wherever they fit, preferably in front of the motor pool along the eastern wall. I hear you have some civilians and an officer for me?"  
  
"Yes." Surai motioned to the first truck's driver, who banged his fist on the divider between the cab and the cargo compartment. Out from the back came a tall police officer in a blue jacket, which was missing a left sleeve, and a young couple. All three were obviously shaken, but not wounded.  
  
Arleigh winced. "Crap! Nakajima, are you alright? Miyuki's going to break down when she finds out you're here, with, damn! What the hell happened to you?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little banged up, that's all. I tried to save these two but the terrorists tried to kill me. They knocked me down and were going to execute me, but the Marines shot them before they could get me." His eyes darted around. Arleigh had never seen him nervous or shaken anytime except when he talked to Kobayakowa.  
  
"Okay, go inside. Go down to the cafeteria. I'm sending all civilians and police down there. Now that I've got Marines I can do without putting your lives at risk."  
  
"But, I'm fine, I can help.."  
  
Arleigh raised his hand. "No. No buts. Just do it. I've got things to attend to. He turned back to Surai who was walking back from ordering his Marines out of their trucks. "Okay, sir. Your men can take up positions inside the building along the corridors. Sorry, but there's no cover outside the building unless you want to put snipers up in those trees along the perimeter. Anyway, what did you bring?"  
  
"I've got a hundred sixty-five Marines. A hundred forty-three are my company and the remaining twenty-two are an extra combat platoon we brought along from Camp Fuji when you requested us the other day. As you requested, we brought our HMMWVs. I've got four with .50-Cals and two with Mk.19 Auto-Grenade-Launchers."  
  
Arleigh's eyes widened at that. "Oh, that's a huge help, Sir."  
  
"I thought they would be. Okay, I've got four 81-mm mortar tubes and about twenty-five AT4 Anti-Tank Rockets. Your Master Sergeant said to expect armor so I brought them along. I've got water, rations, clothes, and other necessities in the list you sent me yesterday afternoon." Surai watched the last truck pull into the station, troops unloading sandbags as it stopped. Behind the truck, four Marines began stacking the sandbags to use as cover. The enemy hadn't attacked again. But that would change with time.  
  
"This is all a huge help, Sir. Glad to have you with us. Now all we need is the armor support from the damn 25th Infantry and we'll be set!" He laughed and led the Captain and his aides into the station.  
  
  
  
  
  
Inside, Aoi helped Marines stow food. The station didn't have an unlimited supply so Arleigh had been sure to request that the Marine response force had some. Though water was still running, that wasn't sure to continue for long thanks to the terrorists, so Arleigh also had them bring large water containers used to store water in small base camps. Aoi hefted a box full of America Meal-Ready-to-Eat bags. 'I've heard these things can either taste really good, or really bad,' she thought.  
  
Upstairs, Nakajima was setting up machine guns on small tables to be able to fire out the windows, which at lowest were at his waist. 'Simple enough.'  
  
Natsumi was back in the operations room, working the radio while Miyuki used the bathroom. "Confirmed, Headquarters. We came under attack by several vehicles armed with heavy machine guns. No casualties to the police or Americans. About sixty civilians came in and we're taking care of them. A few are wounded, but none seriously. Yes, Americans, you heard me right. Detective Arleigh Rivera has organized a defense of the station with many other Americans. I don't think I should talk about it over an open line. Yes, understood. Superintendent Arizuka requests an update on the status of all units from Bokuto and on the status of all bridges into the Sumida Ward."  
  
Over the radio came the reply. "Bokuto Station, Headquarters. All bridges into the Ward have been blockaded. The local governing authority has mobilized JGSDF troops to aid the police in the blockade. Harbor patrol is already circling the Ward. Civilians continue to make their way to our lines. SWAT teams are positioned at all bridges. Two small engagements have occurred resulting in the deaths of two police officers and several civilians. Almost all Bokuto Station officers who were out at the commencement of hostilities have made it to friendly sectors. We are still receiving reports, so we are unsure of the whereabouts of the final groups of officers. Wait, hold on, Bokuto." There was an eerie silence for over a minute. "Be advised, Bokuto. A train carrying equipment for the JGSDF was hijacked some time ago en-route to training grounds south of the city. The JGSDF commander has just confirmed that it is carrying tanks, explosives, APCs, and other dangerous military equipment. It has just overrun two squad cars guarding the Tokyo Rail Line Bridge and entered the Sumida Ward. The JGSDF commander has told us to advise you that any Japanese units that near you are to be treated as hostile. All Self- Defense forces that are friendly are not yet authorized to enter the Sumida Ward."  
  
Natsumi paled and replied, "Yes, Headquarters." She gulped hard and called Arleigh over. "Headquarters is talking with the JGSDF commander and he has confirmed that a train of military equipment was hijacked and has entered the Sumida Ward."  
  
He solemnly shook his head. "I know. I just saw the satellite pictures of it." Arleigh sighed and took his canteen off of his belt, unscrewing the cap. He took a sip and then offered some to Natsumi. "Want some? You might not get a chance to drink for a long time."  
  
She swallowed the cool water and returned it to Arleigh. "Thanks."  
  
"Not a problem." He sighed again. "I can't get rid of you, can I? You people don't get it. This is going to be one big friggin' battle. A lot of people are going to get hurt. A lot of people are going to die. And you still want to help? Hell, you all have nice lives to live after all this crap is over! Me, I'm a life-time soldier. I've got nothing to return to but more fighting, more bloodshed. Why are you adding to your risks? It's confusing me."  
  
"Because we all care, Arleigh." She managed a weak smile.  
  
"I know you do. But what about me? I care about all of you. We're strapped for manpower bad. And with the attacks that will come soon, I need everyone I can. But I'm offering to keep you, Miyuki, Ken, Aoi, Yoriko, everyone out of the danger. I know you care. And it's going to get you hurt."  
  
"Arleigh, listen to me. You do need help. And we're offering it to you. We'll all have a better chance of surviving if we all pitch in. You know that's true. Don't shoot yourself to protect us. Miyuki, Ken, Aoi, Yoriko, everyone else, and me. We can help. Let us help. Just let us do our part so you can do yours and we'll all make it through to our 'lives to live.'" Natsumi took Arleigh's left hand and squeezed. "You're an American. We're all Japanese. And these morons are attacking, hurting, and killing our people. Whether you like it or not, we're still going to everything we can. Do you understand me, Lieutenant?"  
  
Arleigh shifted his eyes back and forth above Natsumi's head before settling them back straight down at her, and said with a smile, "You're all crazy." He turned around and headed back to the map of the Sumida Ward that the Marines had secured to the wall.  
  
Returning to the radio, she continued to monitor the radio, listening to police all over the city trying to coordinate defense to keep the terrorists from flowing into other areas. It was unfortunate that any area had to be sacrificed, but right now there was no way to hold back the terrorists, who numbered far greater than Arleigh had thought. It was not one and a half-thousand, but more like several thousand. How this attack had been so well coordinated and planned, no one knew quite yet. Now the most deadly piece was falling into place. The terrorists had obtained complex military equipment by hijacking the train. At least that would soak up some of the terrorist's man-power. It took a lot of people to operate and maintain military-equipment. If the objectives weren't met quick enough, the terrorists would run out of supplies and their attack would flounder. But how long would that take and at what cost in life? There was yet one more twist to unfold.  
  
"Bokuto, this is Headquarters. Come in Bokuto." The voice from HQ sounded scared.  
  
Natsumi looked at the handset questioningly. "This is Bokuto, go ahead."  
  
"Bokuto, the JGSDF commander has just confirmed that the train was carrying not only the unit's vehicles, but all the unit's troops. It is now known that the Brigade's commander has gone rogue with the entire three and a half thousand-man brigade."  
  
Natsumi's handset clattered to the floor. "Um, Arleigh."  
  
He turned to see her expression, which caused him to raise his eyebrow. 'Something's not right.' "What now? What's wrong?"  
  
She told him the news.  
  
"Well. I guess that pretty much means we're screwed."  
  
  
  
  
  
QUESTIONS & COMMENTS: Bravo26Flashpoint@yahoo.com 


	5. First Blood

The Siege  
Chapter 5: First Blood  
By JagdPanther  
  
Miyuki glanced at the clock in the lower-right corner of the laptop's screen. 'A little past one. I should've been starting patrol soon, but I guess that won't be happening.' She continued to type away. What she was typing was reports containing information about the civilians being held downstairs, status of supplies, status of wounded, and many other vital pieces of information. The report would be sent by the American's advanced radio units to the rest of the police force outside the Ward and the Japanese government. A technology junkie, Miyuki marveled at the small, but extremely versatile radio system the Americans used. Able to uplink to military satellites quickly, it could send anything around the world in milliseconds. In addition to containing powerful internal encryption software for standard radio work, it acted like a satellite modem, sending and receiving images, text documents, and several other things under the same encryption. The Marines had brought several more so Arleigh had Ryker turn the encryption down on one radio so the police to communicate with the outside world.  
  
Across the operations center, Arleigh was screaming into a radio handset. "No, damnit! I don't have time for that crap! I need air support, I need naval gunfire support, I need armor, I need everything! Hurry the hell up! I don't have all day! Delta Five-One out." He threw the handset at the door, but the coiled cord going to the actual radio reversed it and sent it at Arleigh's crotch. "OW! Mother of God." The man hopped around the room, holding his private area. "Now the damn radio wants to kill me. What a quality day this has been, oh, yes."  
  
Arizuka smiled at the detective's mishap. "So, if this is a massive terrorist attack, why haven't we seen anything more than a few soldiers in the past hour? Who were easily routed, I might add. They could be falling back, getting on that train, and running away. Wouldn't that make you feel stupid?"  
  
"Superintendent, I have no time for your condescending crap right now. The reason that we haven't been attacked in a while is because the enemy is retasking its main force to help unload the military equipment it just hijacked. Don't worry, those attacks will come as soon as they're finished getting the crap off the train cars. That's when the real fun starts. Massive waves of infantry, tanks blowing holes in the building, APCs running right over the crappy walls around this place and disembarking troops right on our doorstep, rockets zipping by, bullets tearing up windows and walls, people dying, oh, don't worry, it'll start soon enough. But I can't be bothered with imagining the slaughter right now, because I'm too damn busy trying to save our asses. If the Japanese government would give my superiors authorization, then I could start using air support to beat back the enemy, armor could punch through to us and we could evacuate the civilians, and so on. But no, I'm arguing with you right now so go away, thank you."  
  
Surai was smiling at the exchange. "You'd make a great Marine, Rivera. Too bad you're in the Army."  
  
"Thanks a lot, Captain."  
  
"No problem."  
  
Miyuki finished typing and sent the documents away to headquarters and the capitol district. "Inspector Kinoshita?"  
  
"Yes, Kobayakowa?"  
  
"Do you suppose that the government will help us soon? From the way Arleigh is acting the situation looks pretty dire."  
  
Kaoruko gazed over at the flustered Lieutenant and then returned his eyes to Miyuki. "I sure hope so. But I don't think they can do much. If they provide troops, how are we supposed to tell the difference between the good guys and the bad guys? They'll both be using Japanese equipment. We could end up shooting at the wrong people."  
  
"True. But they have to do something. Even if it is just giving the Americans more freedom to work. I'm very worried about all the civilians in the Sumida Ward. They're completely unprotected. Even the civilians we have here, tiny in numbers compared to the ones out there, aren't very safe. And what if we get people who are wounded so badly that they need to be evacuated to proper medical facilities? We have no way of doing that."  
  
"I know."  
  
Arleigh walked over at that point. "Stupid politicians. Crying and moaning over collateral damage and civilians casualties that might arise due to the support I want. They are just not understanding how much more there will be if the terrorists go on unchecked. Anyway, that was to no one in particular. Thinking aloud. Okay, did you send that report out?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good. There's not much more you can do for now, sorry. Go get some food or some rest. You're going to need a lot of rest."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Arleigh checked his watch as he returned to the maps. "Right, 1:12 PM. The train came into the district over an hour ago. Enough equipment to level this place should already be unloaded. Ryker, as soon as command comes back up with a reply to my support request, you get me, no matter what I'm doing."  
  
"Roger that."  
  
He motioned next to his second in command, Anderson. "Jake, go distribute the half of the AT4s to the D-boys [slang for Delta operators]. Okay, next the Marines. Captain?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"My guys are pretty much set once they get their AT4s. Not much else they can do. I've ordered my HMMWV gunners to assume the driver's controls as soon as armor makes a break for the station to save the trucks. If its just infantry, they are going to continue to man the guns, but if armor shows up, then they get the hell out of there. How about your guys?"  
  
"Same thing. I don't want risk losing our fifties and grenade launchers to the tanks so they are going to move. Some of the officers opened up the motor pool so we can stash the HMMWVs if things get hairy. Then they'll fall back inside and take up fortified positions."  
  
"Okay, I guess that settles it for now. Back to trying to get support."  
  
  
  
Downstairs in the cafeteria, Natsumi, Aoi, Miyuki, and Yoriko sat together talking over what might come later.  
  
"I just don't understand how an entire brigade of Japanese soldiers can turn on their country like this. How can they kill their own countrymen?" Aoi nibbled at some bread while she spoke.  
  
"That doesn't make any sense to me, either. If it weren't true, they wouldn't have told us. Not something like that." Natsumi likewise was eating a little.  
  
Miyuki just stared at the ceiling. "That's not too far-fetched. It's not unprecedented. Do you know how World War II actually ended?"  
  
Yoriko replied, "Well of course. Every Japanese citizen knows that the Americans dropped the Atomic bombs on us and we eventually surrendered."  
  
The black-haired officer shook her head. "No, not really, actually. The decision to surrender was made on the day prior to its announcement, which the Americans call "Victory in Japan Day," August 15th. On the 14th of August, Hirohito decided to surrender. His cabinet was astonished, and a little hurt. They expected the War to go on because surrender was so dishonorable and Japan had never done so. Well, the Japanese military was royally pissed off. One officer, a Major Hatanaka, started a rebellion. He eventually enlisted the aide of a couple thousand soldiers to capture the Imperial palace, specifically the Emperor, and stop him from recording the surrender message, or, if it was too late to do that, stop it from being played. The soldiers followed his orders, and were more than willing to kill any of their countrymen that got in their way. Hatanaka himself executed the commanding officer of the Palace's guards because he wouldn't help the revolting men. Thankfully for the world, the revolt failed because of an American bombing raid. Everyone thought the planes were coming to drop another Atomic bomb on Tokyo, but they weren't. Because of the blackout caused by the planes flying by the city to their target in Akita, Japan, they revolt failed and the Emperor's message went out. And that's how World War II ended."  
  
"Wow, where did you learn that, Miyuki?" Yoriko was a bit amazed.  
  
"Oh, Arleigh told me. And I read two books on it after he told me, one Japanese and one American, both saying the same thing. Anyway, so you see, the Japanese military has gone against its own country in the past. Now, Natsumi said that JGSDF reported that the commander went rogue, along with his men. So it is possible that the commander has been tainted by something that has caused him to fall in with the terrorists. We're all Japanese, so we know that we're all very protective of our homeland. A lot of terrorist groups have agendas that they claim are designed to protect something dear to them. This group may have infiltrated the military at different levels within this brigade and convinced the soldiers that something here was a severe threat to the existence of Japan. Brainwashing, false information, bribery, whatever the case, these soldiers are prepared to kill their own countrymen. And that, quite frankly, scares me. A lot."  
  
Natsumi nodded. "I agree with you. As for me, above being Japanese, I'm a human being. And if someone wants to try and kill me, I have no problems with defending my life and the lives of my friends, even if I have to kill that person or persons, even if they are Japanese. They've already killed civilians, so I see no point in giving them doubt now." The other three women nodded, even Yoriko, who spoke next. "Well, Arleigh told us all to get some sleep, so I'm going to go do just that."  
  
Aoi followed her from the table. "Sounds good to me. At least I'll have some peace and quiet away from all this commotion for awhile."  
  
That left the pair sitting together at the table. "Never in a million years did I think something like this could happen in our city, Miyuki. We were separated from each other for so a year doing other things around the precinct, and then we come back and all the crap starts happening. Our first week back we find all these weapons, get kidnapped, then rescued by someone who had just disappeared from Japan four months earlier. After that we found more weapons. Now, there's this. We work so hard every day to protect this place and look what's happened. I can't help but think that there was something more I could've done to help prevent this. Maybe if we had found more of the weapons, of the warehouses where all those trucks were kept or built, maybe we could've scared them into thinking it wouldn't have worked and they'd would have abandoned their plan."  
  
Miyuki sighed. "Natsumi, you know that they would've tried again. There was nothing we could have to done to prevent or even stall something this huge. We're going to do everything possible to help defeat this, though, that's for sure. I'll take up a rifle if I have to, if that means that someone who I don't even know gets a chance to live longer because the terrorist scum who would've killed them, got killed by me first."  
  
"Well, not if Arleigh has anything to say about it. He'll probably keep us down here the whole time."  
  
"Well he'll just have to deal with us."  
  
"Is it just me, or do we keep coming back to whether or not he's going to let us do anything?"  
  
"No, we keep coming back to it."  
  
"Okay, just wanted to make sure."  
  
"Right."  
  
Natsumi checked her watch. "It's only 1:30. I doubt those two will be getting much sleep. The troops will probably attack soon. I'm going to bring some food and water ready the rest of the police defending the building. Coming?"  
  
"Right behind you." Miyuki finished a cup of water and tossed it into a trashcan.  
  
  
  
Arleigh yawned and looked at his watch. "It's only 1:30. Well, I've got time. Might as well work on my rifle." He set to work attaching the M203 40mm grenade launcher to his Colt M4A1 compact assault rifle. "If the enemy gets so close that I need the MasterKey shotgun I have, then, well, we're all pretty much going to hell." The operation was simple. Just remove the heat-shield panels from around the barrel, slide the launcher onto the rifle, secure it to the muzzle and housing, and attach the sight to the top plate of the barrel. It was done in a few minutes. Arleigh loaded a grenade and put the rest into empty pouches on his utility belt. After yawning again, he shouldered the weapon. "Jeez, I can't be getting sleepy now. I need sugar." Breaking out a candy bar from his pack, he sat down to think things over. 'Okay, here's the deal. We've got enemy armor units being unloaded. If I had authorization, I'd launch a preemptive strike, but I don't so I have to sit here and wait for everyone to get killed. Next, I'll have to get some of my guys up on the roof with sniper rifles. This is a pretty tall building, and the roof isn't succeeded by many buildings around it, so they should be relatively safe.' "Anderson!"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Have Smith and Morris get two of the sniper rifles from the ammo dump and take up overwatch on the roof. Place them at the two northerly corners of the roof."  
  
"Roger that."  
  
Arleigh took another bite from the bar and leaned back in the chair. 'Okay, now where was I? Right, now, the cops and the civilians are my next priority. I need to get them the hell out of here. Civilians first, I guess. Right now I'm strapped for men so I'll need a large portion of the men to stay behind and defend the station until more reinforcements arrive. I'll probably have to evacuate the out by air. I don't think it would be a good idea to have the pickups occur on the roof. Too high profile. A tank far enough away with a clear line of sight can elevate the barrel enough to knock off the chopper. I'll have to have them land either in front, which is probably suicide, or by the motor pool area. The SOAR boys can probably fit their MH-60s into the space between the garages and the station. It would take forever using the MH-6s and, besides, the civilians probably wouldn't like being strapped to those damn benches on the sides of the bird. Thank God it's Sunday or there'd be far more civilians here. That's just about the only thing good so far. Why am I even thinking about this? This is supposing I even get air support. Wonderful. I didn't even think about that part of the evacuation. Yeah, completely forget how the choppers are going to get here. Smart.'  
  
Surai walked over. "Lieutenant. A minute of your time, please?"  
  
Arleigh rested the chair back down on the floor. "Yes, sir."  
  
"I just wanted to go over with you the plans for defending this place against attack. Now, I have my men all around the building on every level with windows above this floor. Anything below and they can't see the road over the trees along the perimeter. Now, how do you plan to go about armor attacks outside the wall?"  
  
Arleigh scratched at his chin. "Pretty much, I don't have a solid plan. This building offers us extremely limited options. Now, if we had more men I'd be sending them across the road right now to occupy other buildings to give us the advantage of high ground all around our main strongpoint, being the station. As for armor, we can't really take them on at ground level. Not that I'd want to, anyway. Any attack from armor will have to be dealt with from the upper levels. Well, not really. I've had some of the police bring up some ladders from the basement and had them set up along the walls at different points. My last-ditch-effort plan is to send men over the wall with anti-tank equipment, and surprise the armor at ground level with attacks on their flanks and rear. However, that is extremely risky and basically suicidal if the armor has infantry with it. That is why I've got two snipers on the roof. By the way, can you spare any of your better marksmen to snipe from the roof or from a high level? In the ammo trailer my guys brought we have about ten M24 7.62mm bolt-action sniper rifles, basically the same as the M40 you Marines use. Two of them are being used by my snipers right now, and I've got our only Designated Marksman Rifle." He tapped his MSG-90A1 resting against the wall behind him.  
  
"Yeah, I can spare a couple. I heard what you did with your two guys. Want me to have them cover two different directions?"  
  
"Please, sir."  
  
"Okay, I'll get that order out right away." Surai did so, making his company's executive officer carry out the order. "Anyway, I'm pretty sure that's all we can do unless we get support. Are we authorized to use those mortars I brought? As near as I can assess, we're only allowed to use direct-fire weapons inside the perimeter or within reasonable distance from the perimeter to defend ourselves."  
  
"No, we're not and yeah, that's pretty much all we can do."  
  
"Great. Well, I guess that's it for now."  
  
"Affirmative, sir. Time for the U.S. Military motto. 'Let's hurry up and wait.'"  
  
"I hear that, Rivera, I hear that." Surai laughed as he left the room.  
  
'Back to thinking. Okay, that's settled a few things. Now for the issue of the generators. One major thing I need is more fuel for them. If I recall correctly from the only time we had to use them when I was stationed here, we have enough fuel for one day of continuous operation at 50% capacity. Well, we're living without air conditioning, I guess. And I'll have them turn off the circuits supplying power to non-essential areas. That will be a very high priority if and when I get air support. Thankfully they use standard diesel fuel. Plus, we've got enough refills to keep the generators running for three days. I think. I hope. Fuel shouldn't be hard to come by in a pinch, though. There's bound to be some diesel vehicles outside the perimeter intact that I can bring in and siphon their load out of. Plus, I have ten diesel-driven 2.5-ton trucks the Marines used to get here. I can take some of their fuel. Okay, next issue. Hmm. What next?' Arleigh stood and made his way to the bathroom. 'Ah, nothing like thinking while using the head facilities.'  
  
  
  
"Yeah, we're pretty much playing the waiting game." The chief fished a cigarette out of the container.  
  
Tokuno turned down a cigarette offer and continued to scan the area around the service entrance of the station. "Never thought it would be this big. I figured it was just gun running, not some major terrorist action."  
  
"I don't think anyone thought it would be this."  
  
"The place has gone to hell real fast."  
  
"I wonder how long we'll be here. Hopefully the government or the Americans will mount some kind of rescue operation. It's only a matter of time before these guys attack and overrun our little defense right here."  
  
"Depends on how willing the government is to let more American soldiers operate in the area. I find it hard to believe that Arleigh or any of these guys had prior authorization. They responded way too quickly. We can probably get people out by helicopter, but we'd have to protect them well. There's no telling how many enemy soldiers will occupy the buildings surrounding us. One helicopter lands, and poof. They hit it." He took a drag from the cigarette and blew the smoke out.  
  
"Real possibility there. Anyway, I wish we had more help back here. If they attack from the front and can't get through, they'll move back here and attack at our weakest point. I hope Arleigh realizes that."  
  
"I don't think he could do much about it. Not nearly enough weapons to deal with attacks on all sides."  
  
"People will have to be moved around, then."  
  
"I guess so."  
  
Something nagged at the back of the Chief's mind. He just couldn't shake that this attack had something to do with the program. 'How would they even know about it? Impossible.'  
  
  
  
"Alright, Lieutenant. Here are our defenses so far. We've got 165 Marines, 12 Delta operators including you, and about 104 police officers of various departments using captured weapons and weapons we keep here in the station. There are some more weapons left and some police, so I don't know if they'll be taking up positions, too." Kinoshita had returned from a task that Arleigh had assigned her to check on the manpower in the station.  
  
Arleigh had just ordered Miyuki to go down and shut down electricity to certain parts of the station so the Mitsubishi industrial generators in the basement wouldn't waste fuel. Now he was listening to Kaoruko's report. "Okay, that gives us a grand total of 281 personnel in combat positions right now against at least five thousand enemy soldiers. How grand this all is. Right, very well. When Kobayakowa comes back, tell her I need to see her. And you, too. But wait until she gets back."  
  
A few minutes later, the three convened. "Alright, here's the deal. When the big stuff starts, I'm going to need all the Marines I can spare. Now, that means I'll have to shift them off of some vital tasks. You're the two most technology-oriented people I've got, so here's what you'll be doing." He took them to a set of laptops hooked up to the radios. "Okay, these two are being used as mediums for photos of the Ward. You won't be talking directly with any outside commands, but you'll be receiving their photos. Captain Surai will be running the Tactical Operations Center during combat; I'll be directing the fight from the front lines, so to speak, even though the front is just outside the door. When photos come in, you're going to need to send them to his terminal over there. It's Network PC #1. You're #2 and #3 on the chain. Now, when we get out of this mess, you can't say a damn word to anyone about this. I'm basically committing an offense that can warrant a court-martial. These photos, coming from satellites in orbit and reconnaissance flights circling overhead, are very deeply classified unless an authority above says they can be shown to people without proper authorization, and you two aren't even in the military, let alone not even American, so you know that's unacceptable. Just send them straight away to Surai and he'll put them to good use. Got it?"  
  
Both acknowledged him.  
  
"Good, that settles that. That'll be all for now."  
  
Ryker, sitting at a radio, looked up in surprise. "Lieutenant! Command wants to talk to you. I think it's about the support."  
  
Arleigh smiled and ran over. "Great!" He grabbed the handset. "Delta Five-One, here. Go ahead, over."  
  
"Rivera, this is General Walker at Camp Zama. The line is secure, yes? Over."  
  
"Yes, General."  
  
"Good. The Japanese government and the U.S. State Department and Department of Defense have reached an agreement. You're going to get your support. First, your air support. Unfortunately, fixed-wing craft were not authorized. So the Navy and Air Force will not be allowed to provide cover, but you will continue to receive digital recon photos from Navy F-14 Tomcats flying over. However, rotary wing craft are allowed. So the Army's 25th Division and the Marine's 3rd MEF are supplying their anti-tank Apache and Cobra gunships. Granted, the risks to choppers are far greater, but they are more accurate up close. The government does not want an errant bomb from a plane hitting civilians. The 160th SOAR and the rest of the 25th's Aviation Brigade have been retasked to help you. You can start calling in supply runs and I'd assume you want to evacuate civilians. Next, your request for naval gunfire has been approved on one condition. You must use a laser-designator. There are two Arleigh Burke-Class Destroyers off the coast right now awaiting fire missions. A third will be on station around 0300 Hours in the morning. They are all equipped with ERGM [Extended-Range-Guided-Munition] and will accept laser sights. Also, you are authorized to use your mortars for defensive purposes only. Third, your armor support. In an effort to protect their own military forces, the Japanese are only using JGSDF units to guard the bridges. They don't want their units being misidentified as enemy vehicles by us. So, you'll have to wait until tomorrow to see friendly armor. The 25th's cavalry battalion is preparing now, about 75% here from Torii Station. They'll head out once everything is here, which will be sometime in the morning. The Marines are also providing some tanks. I'm sending you a full report now. Are you prepared to receive? Over."  
  
"Roger that, sir. You have my modem frequency. Over."  
  
"Okay, Lieutenant. If you need authorization for something, you give me a call, son. The rest of your requests will go through the units on the list from now on. Good luck to you. Walker out."  
  
Arleigh immediately checked the laptop to his left now showing the full list of units and services at his disposal. "Captain, the Lord just smiled upon us. Basically everything we asked for has been authorized. We're only missing fixed-wing air support, and I think we can do without that for now. Other than that, we are in the money. Look at all this stuff."  
  
"Ooh-rah! That's good stuff."  
  
"Okay, have your mortar crews lock in their fields of fire. They've been given the go-ahead to fire in defense of the station. I'm going to call up the destroyers and let them know we're going to need them. I've got two laser-designation units in my trailer. Did you bring any?"  
  
"Yeah, I've got one. I'll have one of my guys get it."  
  
"This is all good news?" asked Miyuki. Kinoshita and her were still standing there.  
  
"Very good news, girls. We just might have a chance now." Arleigh smiled and told them to take a break. Next he had Ryker call in to the U.S.S. Chaffee, DDG 90 and the U.S.S. Farragut, DDG 99, two U.S. Navy Guided- Missile-Destroyers tooling around off the coast of Japan, ready to fire their 125mm naval cannons in support of Arleigh and the defenders. "Ryker, call up the SOAR boys. I want to start evacuation of civilians immediately. I need supplies, too. Get their commander on the line. Then we'll call the 25th Division's Aviation Brigade and see about getting some Apache's in here. They'll be doing supply and evacuation, too. And the Marines, I guess, are chipping in. But let the Captain handle that, since he's a Marine and all."  
  
That took about twenty minutes. The first resupply/evacuation chopper was spinning up on the pad now at Tokyo's primary airport, which the Americans had secured use of in an unfinished and unoccupied section. It was now 2:16 in the afternoon. Arleigh excused himself from the TOC and went downstairs to locate people. Within five minutes he had gathered Miyuki, Natsumi, Aoi, Yoriko, and Ken in the hallway by the sleeping quarters.  
  
"As soon as all the civilians that are here are gone, I'm going to start evacuating the police. The 25th Infantry Division has been kind enough to deploy another two companies of soldiers ahead of its tanks. They should be landing here within the next three hours. At that time, I will have no need for any non-U.S. military personnel. That means you five are out of here. I've already spoken to the Chief and he will be staying at the station. I've given him special permission. Arizuka is fuming and wants out of here so I'm getting him out right now just to keep him from pissing me off. Tokuno and his detectives are going to be on last flight of police out. That means Traffic and everyone else is going out before then. Now, you five are the five best friends I have ever had. I am not seeing you get hurt or killed. So, make your decisions. You've got time before I start getting rid of the police. I'll check back with you in a couple hours." He spun around and headed back upstairs.  
  
"Well, I guess the time to leave is approaching. I'm not leaving if Miyuki isn't leaving." Everyone knew Ken would say that.  
  
"You'll be staying, then, because I'm not leaving. I've got a job to do for Arleigh. So does Inspector Kinoshita." Miyuki conveniently forgot that the Americans on their way to the station would take over her duty that Arleigh had tasked her with earlier, monitoring the photo system.  
  
"No way. I'm not leaving." Natsumi wasn't leaving her best friend.  
  
The three staying turned to Aoi and Yoriko.  
  
"I'm staying if you all are."  
  
"So am I."  
  
Natsumi laughed. "Well, I guess that settles it, then. He came down here to tell us that for nothing. We'd already made up our minds to begin with."  
  
  
  
  
  
Upstairs, a Lance Corporal of the Surai's company was leaning against the wall outside the station. He had just finished setting his 81mm mortar to the pre-determined coordinates Arleigh and the Captain had come up with.  
  
"Hey, Mike, what's that sound?"  
  
"Sounds like.. Tank treads. Oh, God. Lieutenant!"  
  
This Lieutenant wasn't Arleigh, but a Marine Lieutenant in command of the heavy-weapons platoon in the company. "Yeah, Mike, what is it?"  
  
"You hear that? Tanks."  
  
He listened carefully. "Damnit! Give me the radio!" He quickly grabbed the handset from his RTO. "Alpha Six, this is Alpha Four-Six! Tanks! Tanks! Northeast! Over!"  
  
Inside, Surai almost choked up his heart. "Four-Six, Six! Are you absolutely sure? You're on ground level, right? Over."  
  
"Four-Six. Yes, but I'm sure. All my guys can hear them."  
  
Natsumi and Miyuki were walking along the 4th floor corridor when from down the hall, a Marine Sergeant jumped up and yelled "Tanks! Eleven o'clock!"  
  
The women hit the rushed to the broken windows and looked out with the Marines. There they were. Two Type-90 tanks and two Type-89 Armored Personnel Carriers, each carrying seven soldiers. These units were not crewed by rogue JGSDF soldiers, obviously. They had no concept of urban armor warfare tactics. All four were crewed by terrorists, which was apparently when Natsumi noticed a flag flying from the lead Type-89, bearing the crest seen on the documents recovered earlier. Just as this thought crossed her mind, a Marine grabbed her around the stomach and ripped her and Miyuki back down onto the floor. Several 35-mm rounds from the APC stippled across the wall behind where the girls had been standing. They had completely failed to notice the Marines having hit the ground long before they were pulled down.  
  
"Incoming! Take cover! Corporal, get your anti-tank rockets ready!" The Marine Gunnery Sergeant who had spotted the tanks grabbed a younger soldier by the arm and told him to move farther down the corridor to get a better shot at the advancing armor.  
  
Upstairs, Arleigh and Surai were on the floor yelling into radio handsets, informing their command and their support that they were under attack. The supply choppers were called off and the attack gunships called in. Two AH-64-D Longbow Apaches from the 25th ID's 3rd/4th Cavalry were dispatched for support. Arleigh had Anderson start setting up a laser- designator for the naval artillery. The door to the TOC swung open and two Marines carried a wounded comrade in.  
  
Arleigh swore. "Ah, hell, I didn't even set up an aid station yet! I have no clue where to put wounded and dead!"  
  
Surai looked over from where he was prone on the floor. Everyone was. It was natural reaction for military men to do so when someone yelled "Incoming!" He shook his head and replied, "I have no idea, either."  
  
"Crap. Uh, bring them to the briefing room. Set up in there! If that fills up, use the adjoining conference rooms. They're empty. Every floor has two conference rooms for the various departments. They're all right on top of each other, three doors down from the elevators on each floor! Move it!"  
  
Miyuki crawled in the door, the sound of more 35mm rounds hitting the side of the building followed her in. Kinoshita was already sitting against the wall typing away at a laptop. "Arleigh! Your commander just sent in some photos. A little late, I guess. There's a note attached to it saying that armor is closing in."  
  
"You're damn right that's late, Kaoruko. Miyuki! Where's Natsumi and everyone else?"  
  
"Natsumi is helping with a wounded Marine. I have no idea what anyone else is doing, sorry!"  
  
"Ah, crap. All right, stay down you two! And keep those reconnaissance photos coming. Captain! You have command of the TOC. I'm going outside to organize the fight. Ryker, get the radio on your back and come with me. You're my RTO."  
  
Both men acknowledged.  
  
As he crawled out the door, an explosion occurred outside followed by the whoops of a lot of Marines.  
  
"Yes! One APC down!" yelled a Marine.  
  
The tanks weren't firing their 120mm cannons, to Arleigh's surprise. 'They've got to be here for a reason.'  
  
Arleigh barked over his personal com-unit. "Get the HMMWVs out of the way, Deltas! And take out those damn tanks!" He crawled down the hall to Natsumi, who was helping drag one of the men towards the briefing room on the other side of the building. "Natsumi! Stay the hell down!"  
  
"I know! I know!"  
  
Another explosion marked the death of one of the tanks. 'Only the APCs are firing. What's going on here?'  
  
Arleigh slowly rose to his knee at the left-hand corner in the hall and peered around the wall and out where a window had once been. The last APC was disembarking its soldiers. The other tank was just sitting there, its gun barrel not even pointing at the station. 'What the hell?' He clicked his com unit again. "Anderson, you ready to fire on that tank?"  
  
"Yes, sir. I have a shot at the roof."  
  
"Take it." Another explosion. "Is it dead?"  
  
"Yes, sir. It didn't even try to aim at the building."  
  
"I know, something is wrong." Arleigh leaned around the corner once more and saw the APC retreat down the street and out of sight while the soldiers covered it. "What the hell was that all about? Sending four armor units and we got three? You've got to be kidding me. If that is how the rest of this is going to be, I should fly out on the chopper and let y'all take care of the rest." "I don't get it, either. And those were terrorists. The soldiers who got out weren't Japanese soldiers. And those tanks were flying flags with the terrorist crest on them."  
  
"I noticed. Maybe we can expect more from the real soldiers." He grabbed the handset from Ryker. "Delta Five-One to all defending units, take care of your wounded and consolidate positions. Good job, guys."  
  
"Five-One, Alpha Six." That was Surai.  
  
"Go ahead, sir."  
  
"Latest photos show large group of infantry and APCs heading this way. Numbers about 250 or so troops, followed by five or six APCs. That might've been their advance party. The units look like genuine JGSDF, not the terrorists. Over. "  
  
"Roger that. Thanks." He replaced the handset. "Well, I've got a few wounded already. Took out a few technicals and now an APC and two tanks. First blood."  
  
  
  
QUESTIONS & COMMENTS: Bravo26Flashpoint@yahoo.com 


	6. First Timer

The Siege  
Chapter 6: First Timer  
By JagdPanther  
  
Natsumi raced down the stairs to the cafeteria. "Hey! You two! There's wounded soldiers upstairs!" She hoped that the Navy Corpsman understood enough Japanese to know what she had just said.  
  
The two grabbed their helmets and their medic packs and chased Natsumi up to the second floor conference room, where one of the wounded soldiers was. One continued on upstairs to the other rooms since only one was wounded down here. A fragment from an exploding wall had torn into the soldier's leg and it was bleeding badly. Natsumi plugged the wound while the Corpsman got an elastic bandage ready. The Marines who had brought the soldier in returned to their posts at the windows in the hall. There were eight Corpsman and two Delta Force medics in all, nine were up above and one was with Natsumi.  
  
"Okay, ma'am, when I give you the mark, remove your hands and I'll slip the bandage over. Okay?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"Mark."  
  
Natsumi quickly moved her hands and the Corpsman pressed the bandage over the wound.  
  
"Hold it while I tie it off." Petty Officer, Second Class Williams made two quick knots to keep the bandage from moving around. "You're going to be okay, Private, just hold in there." He turned to Natsumi. "Thanks for getting us, ma'am. I think that is all for now. Thanks."  
  
"Your welcome." She exited the room and began making her way down the hall. The Marines were off the floor now, watching the surroundings for any sign of the enemy. Natsumi realized that she didn't have a weapon and would need to get one. Her pistol was in her range locker in the basement. She borrowed a flashlight from a riot-control police officer covering the rear portions of the building. Down the stairs she went into the darkened hall leading to the range. Arleigh had had this area deprived of electricity to save fuel in the generators, which Natsumi could hear thrumming away in the level below her. She put her combination into her locker, opened it, and withdrew her pistol. She attached the holster around her waist, loaded the pistol, and closed the locker. "If I need use this, then we're all in pretty bad shape." On her way back upstairs, Natsumi passed the position where the Chief and Tokuno were on here.  
  
"Tsujimoto."  
  
"Yes, Chief?"  
  
"Can you go get someone to cover for me quick? I need to go speak to Arleigh."  
  
"I can take over for you."  
  
"I don't want to put one of my officers at risk like this, thank you."  
  
She smirked. "No, it's fine, Chief. What, you don't trust my ability to shoot? C'mon! I can do it."  
  
"I don't doubt your ability, Tsujimoto. I just fear for you. Go get someone. Preferably not from Traffic."  
  
Tokuno looked over. "Hmm. Maybe I should go tell me detectives that I don't want them getting shot, so they should get Traffic guys to take over for them."  
  
The Chief glared at him. "Funny."  
  
"C'mon Chief."  
  
"Fine, fine. Here. I have to go do this now." He handed Natsumi the rifle and extra magazines of ammunition he had in his pockets over to the young female officer.  
  
"Thanks a lot, Chief. What do you have to go do?"  
  
"None of your business, Tsujimoto." He was obviously not in a good mood.  
  
"I wonder what his problem is," she said as he walked off.  
  
Tokuno shook his head. "I'm not sure. Since the last attack he's been acting a little bit weird. But I wouldn't worry about it too much."  
  
About ten minutes passed. Several bullets whizzed between the two Japanese officers and struck the wall behind them. Beyond the service entrance, past the wall and past the road beyond it, was a grouping of about forty trees. About twenty terrorists had sneaked up on the rear of the station and were firing RPK light-machine-guns and AK-74 rifles into the building. They had begun firing from well within the cover of the shadows of the trees, but now were moving up for better shots.  
  
A Marine down the corridor yelled "RPG!" The Russian-made anti-armor rocket zipped into the outside wall above the floor Natsumi was on. Shattered concrete rained down, but the rocket hadn't done enough damage to cause any structural failure. The gunfire shifted more to the next level up where more Marines were. That left the people on the 3rd floor, mostly police with a few Marines, clear to fire on the terrorists. Tokuno and Natsumi came up on their knees at the same instant and fired their rifles. Their combined burst struck down three terrorists, including the one reloading the RPG launcher. Other police joined in the return fire, cutting down six more terrorists. Eight of the remaining terrorists ran behind trees to take cover. The other three ran for the wall and made it without getting hit. None of the defenders could see them. A 40mm launched grenade from a soldier up a level eliminated three behind the same tree across the road.  
  
Three grenades came sailing over the wall. Two impacted against the side of the building, bounced back, and detonated harmlessly on the ground below. The third flew in through where windows once were, and clattered to a halt a few meters from Tokuno in one direction, and a few meters from another officer in the other direction. It exploded, sending shrapnel all over the hall. Tokuno had already begun to fall to the floor to avoid the blast as it detonated. A piece of shrapnel sliced through his right shoulder, causing him release the rear end of the rifle. A second piece struck the rifle along the barrel and deflected, but violently forced the barrel directly into Tokuno's face. The officer on the other side of the blast got away completely unscathed, much to his surprise and delight.  
  
Natsumi was too busy firing to have even noticed. Adrenaline was rushing through her as reloaded the rifle and kept firing. 'So this is what combat is like, huh? Interesting. Come get me, pigs!' One terrorist leaned out from behind a tree and she caught him in the face with a single shot. 'Yes! She scores!' Two more officers down the hall finished off the remaining terrorists in the trees.  
  
A terrorist appeared above the edge of the wall. His two buddies were lifting him up over. What the defenders didn't know was that there were satchel charges on his back and he was intending to get close to the building, and detonate them, trying to cause a structural collapse. Natsumi flicked the rifle back to full automatic from single-shot and cut the man down. Two Marines from above lobbed grenades down at the two remaining terrorists. The Marines had cooked the grenades, or let their fuses burn a little, before throwing them. The result was two airbursts, or the grenades detonating before hitting the ground. Shrapnel rained down on the terrorists, killing them instantly.  
  
"That was awesome!" yelled Natsumi. She turned to Tokuno to ask him if he saw her kill the terrorist with a single shot and bag the man climbing the wall, and that's when she saw him bleeding on the floor. "Detective!"  
  
She rushed to his side and propped him up against the wall. "Are you alright? Detective, speak to me!" Tokuno eyelids flickered a bit, but for the most part he remained motionless. In her best English, she yelled at the Marines down the hall a word that every soldier fears. "Medic! Medic!"  
  
Thankfully, one of the Corpsman was already there, tending to a Marine who had bullet take a chunk out of his arm. He prioritized the situation and decided that, even from down the hall, that the Japanese detective's wound looked more serious. "Hang in there, Marine. I have to go help that guy."  
  
Natsumi had ripped the sleeve of Tokuno's jacket off and was pressing it against the wound as the Corpsman arrived. The Petty Officer took one look at Tokuno's shoulder and immediately got out an elastic bandage. Same as with the previous person she had attended to, Natsumi was told to hold the bandage down while the Corpsman tied it. It was an in-and-out wound, thankfully. That meant the shrapnel went in his shoulder and had enough force to leave without getting lodged in the body. Non in-and-out wounds were far more prone to infection and had risk of moving around and causing more damage.  
  
This Corpsman didn't know Japanese as readily or as well as the others did, so it took a few moments for him to find simple words to say to Natsumi. "Uh, take him up!" He motioned to Tokuno's feet and grabbed Tokuno's upper body. Natsumi understood well enough, so she shouldered the rifle and took up the Detective's legs. Together, the two carried him down to one of the aid stations where they set him on a table.  
  
"Detective! Can you hear me? Are you alright?" Natsumi called into Tokuno's ear. She took note of the large, cylindrical bruise across his face. 'He must have been hit in the face with something hard.' "Detective!"  
  
The Corpsman got out some smelling salts and brought Tokuno to his senses.  
  
"Ow, my head is killing me. And so is my shoulder. Wow, that hurts." Tokuno tried to move his right shoulder, but he couldn't do so. He cried out in pain. "Ugh! Damnit!"  
  
Natsumi held on to his arm firmly. "Don't move it, sir."  
  
"Ugh, I remember the grenade flying in the window and trying to duck, but I blacked out before I hit the ground." Using his left arm, he rubbed his head, and clenched his teeth down hard when he touched the massive bruise.  
  
"It looks like you got hit in the head pretty bad, sir. You were unconscious when I got to you. You have a huge bruise along your face." She kept his hand away from the black-and-blue mark. "Rest up. I'll find someone to take your position at the wall. Don't worry."  
  
"Thanks, Tsujimoto."  
  
"Not a problem, Detective." She smiled. "I'm going to go back to the line, okay? I'll get someone to fill in for you. And I'll talk with Arleigh and see if he can get you out of here on a chopper, okay?"  
  
"You do that, officer." Tokuno forced a smirk. As she left, he sighed and leaned against the wall next to the table he was on. 'Well, I'm out of the fight for a while.'  
  
Natsumi made her way down to the cafeteria and got another officer to help hold the line. They made their way back up the hallway overlooking the rear entrance to the station. There was a small crater from the grenade and Tokuno's blood was drying on the floor. She looked out at the dead terrorists on the ground, she looked at the rifle slung over her shoulder, and then she looked at her hands, covered in Tokuno's blood. That's when it hit her. She had killed. She had seen a good friend wounded in combat. Her world came crashing down around her as she sank into the wall. The brown-haired Traffic Officer brought her knees up close to her and buried her face in her chest. For the first time in a long time, Natsumi Tsujimoto cried.  
  
  
  
  
  
Arleigh leaned over Miyuki's shoulder, looking over another reconnaissance photo that has just been transmitted. "Bastards. They're rounding up civilians and using them as human shields for their tanks. That is terrible. I sure as hell hope those aren't the rogue JGSDF troops. Even if they are rogue, they should have some respect for their fellow countrymen. Jesus Christ, that is sick." He shook his head and bit his lip. "Miyuki, can you zoom in on this section here." He drew a small box with his finger in the upper left of the screen.  
  
"Sure."  
  
The cropped part of the picture blew up.  
  
"Hmm. That looks like a Type-87 Self-Propelled-Anti-Aircraft unit. I can see why the recon choppers are circling the Ward and not overflying it. Damn, that brigade shouldn't have any anti-aircraft units. They should all be with Division Anti-Aircraft back at their home base." Arleigh swore and turned away. "Thanks, Miyuki."  
  
"Not a problem. Hey, Arleigh?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"What if they move their tanks up here and continue to use civilians as shields?"  
  
"Well, they seem to be doing that to ward off any aerial attacks. If they use the shields, then planes won't come in and attack them."  
  
She looked down at the ground, unable to meet his eyes. "That doesn't answer my question."  
  
Arleigh glanced over at Surai, who had apparently overheard the question. So had Kinoshita and Arizuka, who were both staring at him. "I hope it doesn't come down to this, but if I have to, I will have to go through the civilians to get to the tanks. If a tank is using them as a shield and starts blowing this place apart, killing my men, killing these Marines, killing you police, then I will have no choice but to sacrifice them to save the people in this building, who are my responsibility right now. If there is any way of saving them, too, and destroying the enemy at the same time, I will go about it." He looked at Captain Surai again, who nodded and returned to his work. "I hope it never comes to that, but if it does, I might have no choice."  
  
The response didn't please her, but she accepted it. She understood that Arleigh had a responsibility for the well being of his own men and everyone else in the station. "If there's any way you'll try to save them?"  
  
"Absolutely. You have my word." Arleigh hailed the Captain next. "Cap'n, I think we should call the choppers back in. We've got wounded and I want them evacuated. Plus, with this assault group forming up I want those 25th ID boys in here and ready to fight as soon as possible."  
  
"Already did it, Arleigh. They're on the way. Two UH-60s out of the 1st of the 25th Aviation inbound with a platoon from the 25th Division and prepared to accept casualties. ETA 15 minutes."  
  
Just then, the Chief came into the TOC. "Arleigh, can I speak with you for a moment?" He seemed unusually agitated.  
  
"Uh, yeah, sure. Step right over here." He led the Chief to the far corner of the room, out of earshot of Miyuki, Surai, or any of the Marines in the room. Arizuka strained to listen in and Kinoshita kept on talking with police headquarters. "What is it, sir?"  
  
He grimaced and began to speak. "Well, there's something I have to tell you. I've been down there guarding the back entrance and that's given me plenty of time to think things through."  
  
Arleigh chuckled and slapped the Chief on the shoulder, trying to cheer him up a bit. "Okay, that's a good start."  
  
The Chief just averted his eyes and continued to speak, even lower. "Well, you see, okay. Here's what I have to say. Back a couple years ago, the police force was tasked with creating a plan simulating an attempted take-over of the Sumida Ward."  
  
The Lieutenant didn't say anything. He motioned for the Chief to continue.  
  
"Well, I was part of the design team along with several other officers in higher places. Mostly we were station department heads, a few senior SWAT personnel, and so on. The plan took about a year to complete. We ran it though a very advanced computer simulation several times, changing values of response times, adverse weather conditions, failure of communications, etc. The plan was perfect. Not once was the computer, acting as the police, able to defeat the plan."  
  
Arleigh's eyes widened and his breathing increased. He spoke in a very cold, even tone. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"  
  
The Chief looked straight down. "I thought that it would come back at me. Especially with Arizuka here, because no one, besides those who worked on it, is supposed to know about it. I thought I'd get in deep trouble. Probably arrested and sent to prison."  
  
"Any other bright and cheery information for me at this time, sir?" Arleigh emphasized the final word in a very sarcastic tone.  
  
"Yes, actually."  
  
Arleigh winced and blurted out. "Go on."  
  
"After the program and testing were completed, we spent the next two years making an updated version." The Chief was talking in a very subdued tone at this point.  
  
"An updated version? What in the hell does that mean?"  
  
"One that was designed not just to take down the Sumida Ward, not just Tokyo, but the major cities all over the world. It was designed to cripple the economies of the world. The plan was an economic nuclear bomb. Everything would be destroyed. There were even plans to attack cities physically, destroying world icons like the Tokyo Tower, the Sears Towers in Chicago, the Eiffel Tower, the Vatican, and many others. The plan itself is worth probably trillions of dollars. I was thinking, that maybe these terrorists found out about this and were coming to get it."  
  
The American officer was close to pistol-whipping the Chief. "What do you mean 'coming to get it'? You mean its here in the Sumida Ward?"  
  
"Yes. There was only ever one copy made. It was fragmented and hidden all over the Sumida Ward in honor of the original program. No one piece contains the entire plan. Each piece must be collected and fit together. Even so, one piece is worth billions and can cause incredible damage."  
  
"Chief, you better pray I don't get another infuriating piece of news within the next minute, or I will beat the crap out of the closest living object." Arleigh's mind began racing a hundred kilometers a second, trying to think of what to do. After a minute, he called to Ryker. "Ryker. Get command on the line. Tell them I want an ultra-secure line. I mean the securest we can possibly get. Once you get that done, tell them I want someone with at least November-Sierra clearance who speaks Japanese on the line to translate everything this man just told me to General Walker and his G-2 [Division Intelligence Officer]. Move it."  
  
Arizuka looked up. "You told him about B-1, didn't you?"  
  
Arleigh glared down at him. "Shut up. If you have nothing productive to say, then shut up. If you have sometime worthwhile to say, then say it. I have no idea what he was talking about so if you have something to add, do it. I know you heard everything he said. So, if he missed something, tell me. Right now."  
  
He sneered at Arleigh and responded gravely. "No, I don't. I wasn't involved in the B-1 program, but I have heard of it many times. That was all news to me, too. The highest level commanders such as myself weren't involved in it. It was mostly run by Internal Affairs and Special Investigations."  
  
"Do you have any idea why it was created? That sounds like a stupid thing to think up. What did you people get up one day and decide, 'Hey! I want to destroy the Sumida Ward so lets make a plan to do it!' And when you got done, you said, 'Hey! That worked pretty well! Why stop with Sumida? Let's destroy the world!' Huh? What the hell was this all about?"  
  
Arizuka stared at the wall across the room. "It was simple. We wanted to test our defenses. We wanted to see how heavy an attack we could defend against."  
  
"Yeah, look, the American NSA does crap like that. Not the freakin' Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department." At that point the shooting out back started. Arleigh turned back to the two men quickly. "You two don't move a goddamn muscle, I'm not finished with either of you." With that, he ran out the door and around to the back.  
  
He felt the floor shake a bit from the RPG hit as he turned the corner. Looking down, he could see the terrorists on the ground shooting up. Bullets snapped around his head and he dove back down. He checked to make sure the grenade was still seated properly in the launcher and came back up quickly. The negative angle on the shot didn't really require the M203's special aiming sight. All he had to do was to point and shoot and gravity would do the rest. Arleigh did so, and the 203 round sailed behind a tree. The round detonated, pitching three dead terrorists around like rag dolls. Down a level, the defenders seemed to have everything pretty much well in- hand. He felt the grenade explode underneath him. 'Damn, I hope no one got hit.' He continued to fire his M4A1, emptying the clip. The final four rounds connected with another terrorist below behind a tree. Before he could reload and aim at the man crossing the wall, someone below cut him down. Two Marines eliminated the final enemy soldiers with grenades. There was much rejoicing, as another battle had been fought and won. 'This will be good for morale. Sort of. Some guys got injured, but I haven't lost anyone to death yet. Hopefully. I don't know about the grenade explosion downstairs yet. Oh, well, if anything like that happened I'd hear about it over the com-set by now.'  
  
Arleigh returned to the TOC. On his way to the corner where the Chief and Arizuka were sitting, he passed by Surai. "I don't friggin' get it. Why are they attacking in such small groups? It makes no sense. They know we can beat back these little attacks. I mean, they sent a weaker force then they did last time! It was about twenty damn infantrymen. Why don't they attack in force?"  
  
Surai shook his head. "Well, they will be within the next hour. That group is getting larger, according to this latest aerial recon photo. It's slowly making its way up the Ward to here. I mean really slow. We've probably got at least thirty minutes before they get here if they keep this pace."  
  
Arleigh grimaced. "Yeah. Get a bunch of AT4s ready and set up at least two HMMWVs just outside the entrance. I want to use their .50-Cals to maximum advantage. If things get to hot, pull them back inside the wire. I don't want to lose them." He motioned in the general direction of the corner. "Did you catch any of that, Captain?"  
  
"Yeah, I did, Rivera. I think most everyone in here who understands Japanese caught it. That is absolutely mind-boggling." The Italian- Japanese-American Marine Captain took a drink from his canteen. "You're calling this in to command, right?"  
  
"Yeah, right now. Which reminds me, Ryker? Did you get Walker on the line?"  
  
Ryker looked up from the radio controls. "Yes."  
  
"Good. Captain, we've got more wounded around now. When those choppers get here, make sure every wounded body in the building is at the front entrance ready to evacuate." Surai nodded as Arleigh turned around. "Chief? Get over here. Tell them exactly what you told me." He thought for a moment. "By the way, if you're up here, who did you get to fill in for you on the perimeter?" Arleigh handed him the handset and awaited a reply.  
  
It was obvious it was hard for him to respond to the Lieutenant. "Well, um, you see, she wouldn't take no for answer so I."  
  
Once the Chief got to 'she,' Arleigh knew what was coming and he gritted his teeth.  
  
".so I let Natsumi take my place. She wouldn't say no."  
  
Arleigh clenched his fist. "Thank you for the information, sir." He turned to leave. "Sir, one more thing. I'm not mad at you for any of this. I've just a little displeased with you. I'm furious that such plans would exist. I'm furious that Natsumi is putting her life on the line when there are plenty of Marines here to do that for her. I'm only a little displeased that you didn't bring this to my attention earlier. No hard feelings for you. If I come off that way, please forgive me."  
  
"I'm sorry, Arleigh. Very sorry." The Chief spoke into the radio and began telling the translator at the other end about the project.  
  
Sixty kilometers away, General Walker listened to the translator in horror. "Mother of God."  
  
  
  
  
  
He found her, still curled up against the wall, and still crying. 'Son of a bitch, this is terrible' was all he could think at the moment. Arleigh clicked his personal com-set to transmit. "Ryker, this is your L- T. Tell the Captain that he has complete command and control for now. I have to do something very important. Anything short of nukes falling from the sky, don't bother me. I'm turning off my com-set."  
  
Arleigh only caught part of Ryker's affirmative response as turned the volume dial down past the mark where it killed power to the small radio. He looked both ways down the hall to make sure no one was watching, and no one was. Everyone was intent on watching for enemy activity. Arleigh quietly opened the door into a room belonging to an administrative task force based out of Bokuto. He made sure no one was inside. The room was cool, surprisingly. 'The air-conditioner must be on another circuit from the lights. Strange.' Arleigh exited the room, walked over to Natsumi, and knelt beside her, carefully placing his hands on her shoulders.  
  
"Don't touch me, damnit!" she choked out over the lump in her throat.  
  
"Natsumi, it's me. It's Arleigh. Please, calm down."  
  
"Leave me alone." She wrestled her shoulders out of his hands, though with far less strength than she had.  
  
"Don't make me force you."  
  
"Go away."  
  
Removing almost all his gear and stowing it in the room, Arleigh moved to drag Natsumi on her butt into the room. She didn't resist at all. Arleigh closed and locked the door behind him. He sat on the floor next to the girl he cared most for in the world. He'd never seen her like this before, ever. She was an emotional wreck. "Please don't cry. Talk to me, Natsumi. Please."  
  
Immediately she launched herself into him and began crying even more.  
  
Arleigh winced and held her tight, stroking her beautiful brunette hair. He rested his cheek on top of her head. "Talk to me, Natsumi. What's wrong?" He asked that question knowing damn well what the answer was. Tears formed at the corner of his own eyes, just seeing how she was reacting to the situation, but he was able to stop them as quickly as they had started. He knew if he was going to help her, he couldn't be pained at the same time.  
  
Natsumi used every ounce of strength she had left to lessen her crying to a point where she could form a response. "Arleigh. I. I. I killed someone. It hurts so bad to know that. I can't believe it. I just can't believe that I killed someone."  
  
He continued to hold her tight. "Talking about it is the only way the pain will go away."  
  
"It'll only make it worse. I don't want to talk about it."  
  
"Natsumi, don't argue with me about this. Think about who you're talking to right now."  
  
She paused for a minute before speaking again. "Arleigh, I'm scared. I mean, I just saw combat for the first time. That was tiny compared to what we're going to face later. And look how I've just broken down. The Chief asked me to go find someone to fill in for him, and I was blindly enthusiastic to do it myself. I sat there, I held that rifle, and I knew if I had to, I'd do my job and shoot it. But that's the first time that I've even shot a weapon at a living being. And I killed them! And I was happy about it! I was rejoicing at the deaths of other people. I look back at what happened just minutes ago and I can't believe how heartless I was. That makes it hurt even more. Then a good friend got hurt in the fight, and I was so intent on killing people that I didn't even notice. I didn't even notice, Arleigh. Someone I've known for years could have died right there next to me. And the only reason I even noticed was because I turned to him and celebrating my shooting. I'm so terrible"  
  
He raised an eyebrow and thought as she said that. "Natsumi, who got hurt?"  
  
She sniffled a little and croaked. "Tokuno. He got hit by a grenade blast. He'll be all right."  
  
"Oh, God, I'm so sorry. I didn't even know."  
  
"No, that's okay."  
  
"Natsumi, listen to me. You are not heartless and you are not terrible. I respect you so much because you are the exact opposite. You have a great heart. You care about others so incredibly much that it's impossible for me to define in words. Natsumi, you did what you had to do. It was your duty to protect yourself and the people in this station from the very real danger that those jerks presented. The situation required you to field a weapon and it required you to return fire, possibly killing them in the process. You did well, Natsumi, you did well."  
  
"But I still killed someone and I'll never forgive myself for that. And what hurts me even more is that I might be presented with the same situation before this is all over. I don't think I can bring myself to do it again, Arleigh. I'll have to make a choice between fighting and not and I'm not sure if I trust myself to fight again. Its too painful, to know that I've ended someone's life. I'm a police officer, dedicated to saving lives and I ended one so easily and I goddamn celebrated it." The tears were coming back. Rivers formed on her cheeks.  
  
"Yes, that's right. You may have to do it again. And I trust you to make the decision you think is right. No one, not even I, will force you to make that decision against your will. Yes, you are a police officer, dedicated to saving lives. As strange as it seems, believe it or not, you were saving lives by killing those terrorists. You ended their lives before they could end the lives of anyone in this station or outside. Maybe after they were done here they would've gone off and raped and killed some young girl, or killed a father trying to protect his family. Officer Natsumi Tsujimoto, if I were your commanding officer, I'd be awarding you, not denouncing you."  
  
Natsumi shifted around and lifted her head so she could look directly into Arleigh's pale blue eyes. "You said that I should think of who I was talking to, earlier. What did you mean by that, really?"  
  
Arleigh looked up at the ceiling and contemplated his response. "What I meant was that if you didn't want to talk, maybe you should reconsider, remembering what my occupation is. I'm a combat soldier, and I know full well what you're going through right now. I can help better than anyone else you know, because I've been in combat. I know what it's like when you pull the trigger and your first target lands on the ground, dead." He grabbed a tissue off the table to his left and dabbed her eyes dry.  
  
Natsumi recoiled a little at his touch. "How did you deal with it your first time? There's no way it can be any way like this. You're a guy who volunteered for service in your country's military, knowing full well there might come a time when you'd have to kill someone. Didn't you prepare yourself for it so it wouldn't, you know, affect you so much? I'm a person who joined the police to protect others. I never thought I'd see something like this. I wasn't prepared at all. And, I mean, you're obviously over it. I remember when you worked here. You headed advanced training for SWAT personnel, and you went out on a few missions. You had to kill some perpetrators, so I've seen you kill. You never missed a beat. Plus, you're a guy. And isn't that like natural instinct for men or something? I know I'm being weak right now and that's not like me, but this is something I was never ever prepared for."  
  
"Natsumi, don't insult me like that and do not dare put yourself down"  
  
That confused her greatly. "What?"  
  
"I said don't insult me and don't insult yourself."  
  
"But." Her heart sank even deeper. She thought she had angered him.  
  
He lightly punched his head and smiled. "Sorry, that was a harsh. You see, the truth is, you never get over it. Ever. I know that doesn't help you, but I want to prepare you. You never get over the first kill." Arleigh took a deep breath and continued. "I come from a long line of soldiers. Rivera's have fought in every American conflict since the Spanish-American War in the late 1800s. The stories of my long-dead relatives from those wars long ago were passed to my grandfather, who passed them with his stories to my father, who passed those stories along with his stories to me, and now I pass them on to you. When you take that first life in combat, it haunts you forever. It will always remind you of what you had to do, and it makes sure you never forget that on the other end of your rifle is a human being. I have never forgotten the slightest detail of when I first killed. It was August 4th three years ago. My Company was the first unit deployed to meet the Russian threat in the Malden Islands. We landed about 5:20 AM on the beaches of Everon. I moved my platoon up into position to attack and capture the small village of Morton. Just as I was about to kick off my attack, I noticed a small Russian patrol heading up towards where I had one of my squads. My first three shots all struck the first man in the patrol, then I dropped another guy, and the guys behind me finished the rest. After the battle was over, I had about six kills to my name. I was happy, even celebratory, just like you were. I had survived my first combat mission. And you know what I did that night?"  
  
Natsumi shook her head no.  
  
"I sat on the beach, drinking and crying my eyes out."  
  
She was genuinely stunned. It was impossible for her to imagine the big, strong American Special-Operations soldier crying at all. "You did?"  
  
"Yes. I kid you not." There was still a little bit of doubt in her eyes, he saw. "I couldn't believe that I had ended people's lives, either. But I knew that I'd have to do it again the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, all the way until the conflict was over. And then I was assigned here. My first strike mission with my team, I knew I'd have to do it again. I knew the same thing before each mission. When I set out to rescue you, I knew I'd have to kill again. When I realized they were going to attack here, I knew I'd have to kill again. Just now was the first time I fired my weapon all day, and my first shot was a grenade that killed three guys. Every time I pull that trigger, I know that the round might kill someone. To be honest with you, nothing ever prepares you for the first kill. Nothing at all. Not being a man, not being a soldier. Nothing."  
  
"That August night, I knew that the same thing would happen again sooner or later. But I wasn't as lucky as you are. I didn't have anyone to go to. I couldn't breakdown in front of my guys. They looked up to me. They were my responsibility. I couldn't set that kind of example for them. So I had to bottle it up until I had time alone, and that night, I drank beer until I was just about drunk, and I fell asleep crying on the beach. Thankfully no one saw me, but that's another story. You're lucky. You have me to come to, someone who knows first-hand what you're going through. Natsumi, I care about you. And it pains me so much to see you like this. I can't make this hole in your heart go away, because in all honesty, it never does. But what I learned that night I now pass on to you. There may and probably will come a time that you are faced with the same situation. It will come to where you have a choice between killing someone, thus saving the lives of others, or not killing, and leaving those you care about to fend for themselves, hoping that they have the skills and means to survive to see tomorrow. I pass on to you that you must realize the good you are doing, and build up the courage to do it again, if you have to. I know I will have to fire upon people again in the very near future, and I am prepared to do it, because I have a responsibility to do it. The lives of my fellow Deltas depend on my emotional courage to pull the trigger. The lives of those Marines depend on it. The lives of the police held up here depend on it. The lives of the civilians downstairs depend on it. And, most importantly, the life of the one woman I'd want to spend the rest of my own life with, depends on my ability to aim at some dirtbag terrorist, pull that trigger, and send them straight to Hell." Arleigh quickly realized that his last statement could have been worded differently, and winced. 'Crap. This is not the damn time to say something like that, you friggin' moron,' he thought.  
  
Natsumi's gaze shifted down and she sank back into his body, gripping his shirt tight. "Thank you." Her crying had completely stopped. The hole in her heart slowly began to heal with Arleigh's words. One of the reasons why she admired him so much was because he had such a strong will and dedication to protecting those that he cared about. Natsumi knew that Arleigh could have easily left her sitting there, but here he was, holding her, caring for her, helping her. Out of all the things he said, the last statement had helped the most. At that moment she knew that he shared the same feelings for her that she had repressed since the day the two had met, years ago. And this moment was not all that unlike then, either.  
  
It had been late December. Miyuki and herself had stumbled across some drugs after chasing down a traffic violator. Investigations took a rather peculiar interest in the case. One day the pair found out that a new detective would be tagging along with them on their patrol route for observation purposes of the area where they had come across the stash. The detective was Arleigh, recently arrived from an "exchange" program with the Los Angeles Police Department. The three talked the entire time while on patrol, and Natsumi had instantly developed an interest in Arleigh's background. Temperatures dropped well below freezing, yet the American remained completely oblivious to the cold, wearing shorts and T-shirt. She observed his ability to block out adverse conditions. They stopped to help get a car out of the snow, and Arleigh waved off Natsumi's offer of help and easily helped the motorist jar the car loose. She observed his physical strength. Finally, near the end of the patrol, they stopped to break up a fight that had broken out on the street. As Natsumi attempted to subdue one of the men, the man pulled a gun on her and almost killed her. Arleigh rushed the man and came very close to getting himself shot, but was able to knock him unconscious. In an instant, he was by her side making sure she was all right.  
  
Now he was once again with her, holding her, comforting her. "Thank you," she said.  
  
Arleigh tried to rush his last statement out of her mind. "Natsumi, I know you're a stronger-willed person than this. Stronger than I could ever dream of being. Now, there are people out there who need your help. Are you ready to return to your duty? I don't want to rush you, but there is a battle to be fought and won."  
  
She turned her head to meet his gaze. "Can we just stay like this for a few more minutes? Your warmth makes me feel good."  
  
Arleigh gulped as he looked down into her pretty eyes. "Um, yeah, I guess. I told the guys not to bother me for a little while."  
  
Time passed. Natsumi's upper-body shifted up and down rhythmically with Arleigh's breathing. She wished that they could be like this together forever. Well, almost. 'It would be better if we were in a bed together far away from combat, but this will do for now,' she thought.  
  
It had been about twenty minutes since Arleigh had found the other Natsumi, the Natsumi who had emotionally lost herself. But now she felt better. Arleigh had soothed her and allowed her the chance to understand what she had done and its importance. She knew that when the time came, which would probably be very shortly, that she would be able to fire again. Better yet, he had inadvertently told her exactly what she had wanted to hear for a long time. That he loved her. For as outspoken as she was, she had never been able to tell him herself. Something in the back of her mind always told her that Arleigh cared about everyone equally and that he could never actually choose her above everyone else. Her conscious and heart didn't die when she killed those terrorists; those voices of dissent in her head had died.  
  
"Arleigh, I'm a police officer, and I've got a city to protect from these bastards. Let's go." She jumped up, pulled Arleigh to his feet and promptly hugged him tightly. "Thank you for helping me. I should've come to you to begin with. I'm sorry I made you worry." She released him and headed towards the door. "Come on, Lieutenant."  
  
Arleigh smiled broadly. His friend was back to normal. Well, more so, the woman he loved was back to normal. Arleigh wondered if she felt the same way. 'There's time and place for that later, moron. Move your ass. World War III could've been fought outside that door and you wouldn't have noticed, idiot, because you were too damn busy cuddling with her!' Arleigh mentally kicked himself, but held his jubilant appearance as he donned all his gear.  
  
Natsumi unlocked the door, stepped out, and grabbed her rifle from right where she had left it earlier. "Thanks again."  
  
Arleigh bid her farewell and made his way back to the TOC, a little spring in his step.  
  
  
  
QUESTIONS & COMMENTS: Bravo26Flashpoint@yahoo.com 


	7. Little Bird Down

The Siege  
Chapter 7: Little Bird Down  
By JagdPanther  
  
First Lieutenant Arleigh Rivera finally returned to the Tactical Operations Center after checking with the Corpsman who had taken care of Tokuno, who fortunately, had been evacuated on the choppers. "Well, that took a little longer than I expected." His smile threatened to engulf his entire face.  
  
Surai looked turned around in his seat and sized Rivera up. "What took you so long, Lieutenant?"  
  
"Meh, I had to take care of some stuff." He noticed the Chief still sitting there. "If you told them everything that you know, you can return to the line now. Tokuno got hit in that last attack. He's fine, got evacuated on the flights out."  
  
"I'm glad he's okay. All right, I'll be going down now." He got up to leave.  
  
Arleigh grabbed his arm as he passed by. "Hey, remember, I just wish you would've told me earlier. No hard feelings, right?"  
  
"Right."  
  
"Good." He watched the older man leave. "Right, back to work. What happened while I was gone, Captain?"  
  
"Glad you asked, Rivera." Surai handed him some coffee. "The first choppers from the 25th came in all right. They dropped off several containers of fuel for the generators. They picked up all the wounded we currently have, including the couple wounded civilians, the few wounded police, and my Marines. Apparently the flight containing troops was called off because of a small mechanical difficulty. So the supplies came instead. That first flight with the troops is already inbound again with new choppers, and should be here in about five minutes. Some MH-6s from the 160th flew in and dropped off more AT-4s and eight Javelin missiles."  
  
"Wow, that's great. No matter where we hit a Type-90 with those it'll be destroyed."  
  
"Yeah, I know. Anyway, I was trying to reach you but I didn't know where you were. Your Army buddies flying those puny things wanted to talk with you personally and laugh at you for doubting that they could fit MH- 60s into that Landing Zone along the motor pool area."  
  
Rivera chuckled. "Yup, SOAR boys are like that. At least that'll work, though. That gives us an extra option when things get hot to land choppers. Anything else?"  
  
"Of course. That big group advancing on us? Well, they detoured and we thought they were going somewhere else, but they returned to a course headed for us. They seem to be slowing down even more to let units from the rear catch up with them. They're also making civilians plod among them, so we can't call in Apaches, Cobras, or anything to assault them and spurn them before they even get here. What I hope is that they'll leave the cover of the civies to give them better maneuverability in attacking us, allowing us in-turn to call in air and artillery on them." Surai showed Arleigh the latest recon photos.  
  
"Hmm. Yeah, they probably will ditch them. Hopefully, that doesn't mean that they'll eliminate them, too. If they start doing that, we'll have to strike at them to divert their attention, hopefully giving the civies a chance to run, if they're smart enough to run, though. If that isn't the case, damn, are our snipers going to be in for one hell of a shooting contest." Arleigh gulped down some coffee and perused the photos. He looked at his watch next. "All right, I'm going to go down and meet those guys from the 25th Infantry Division coming in."  
  
"Roger that, Lieutenant."  
  
"Arleigh?"  
  
He stopped short of the door and turned around to face the speaker. "Yeah, Miyuki?"  
  
"Um, can you come here?" She beckoned him close to her. "Um, is she alright? You don't seem worried so I guess I can just assume that she is."  
  
His smile increased. "Of course she's alright. She was just crying."  
  
That shocked her. "What? Natsumi crying? Something was definitely wrong, then. What happened? Was she shaken up or something? I've never know her to do that before."  
  
He sat down on the table and toyed with the safety on his pistol. "Well, she was kind of shaken up. Natsumi was crying because it dawned on her after the fight that she, well, had killed someone. And she saw Tokuno hurt, so that kind of added to it. A couple people, actually. She performed brilliantly from what I heard from a police officer down there. Unfortunately she had the same realization that every sane person has after they've gone through combat for the first time. I took her into one of the administrative rooms downstairs and we talked for a little while and just sat there until a few minutes ago. Basically I just tried to get her to accept what she had done. She's fine, now. Eh, you know, get the story from her later. I've got to make up for the work I missed."  
  
Miyuki was very concerned for her best friend. "So she's all right?"  
  
"Yes, I assure you. She's fine. If you want, you can do down there and talk to her to make sure for yourself."  
  
"No, that's okay. I'll take your word for it. I'm not done here. I'll go down later."  
  
"Eh, well, there might not be downtime for a long time. That attack will come soon and it looks to me like we'll be engaged for a while."  
  
"You sure I can go down? I've still got to get these things transmitted to HQ."  
  
"Yes, yes, go ahead." Arleigh patted her on the shoulder. "Go ahead." Then he got up and left.  
  
  
  
  
  
Small bursts of rifle fire reached up at the UH-60 Blackhawks screaming in over the Sumida Ward. The pilot of the helicopter juked the craft around make it a much harder target to hit. 'At least I'm not flying over those Anti-aircraft guns to the north,' he thought. "Alpha Six, this is Hotel One-One, I'm inbound with a platoon from the 25th Infantry Division. Do you have anything for me to pick up? Over."  
  
Surai came back on the radio. "One-One, Six. Affirmative. All of our wounded are out, but we've got civilians we need to evacuate. Hold in the front of the building. We'll start loading them as soon as you disembark your cargo. Over."  
  
"Roger that, Six. We'll hold. One-One out." He looked out the window to his right at his wingman. "You catch that Two?"  
  
"Acknowledged, Lead. I copy. ETA one minute."  
  
"Roger, Two. Going to the deck, land side-by-side in front."  
  
The two pilots from the 1st Battalion [Air Assault] of the 25th Aviation Regiment, 25th Infantry Division [Light] slowed to a hover over the turn-around in front of Bokuto Station and set down next to each other. In back of both choppers, twelve in each, twenty-four members of an infantry platoon hopped out and fanned out around the choppers in a circle, taking care to avoid the spinning rotors.  
  
Arleigh ran out from the building's entrance to greet the platoon's commander. "First Lieutenant Arleigh Rivera, Delta Force. And you are?"  
  
"Second Lieutenant Steve Vrabel, 3rd Platoon, Charlie Company, 1st of the 5th."  
  
"Nice to meet you, Vrabel. Set your men up on any floor, but try to equally distribute them to all four sides. Did they brief you back at the airport?" He led the lanky officer inside.  
  
"Yeah, looks like big stuff is coming this way. I brought along a few AT4s and made three guys trade in their rifles for machine guns. Looks like the enemy has positions on most of the prominent roofs around here. Took sporadic AK fire as we flew in." The officer took off his helmet and ran his fingers back through his black hair.  
  
"All right, I'll remember that. I've got snipers on the roof so if anyone wants to take a few pot-shots at us, they'll be meeting a .308 rifle round. Glad to have you aboard, Lieutenant. The rest of your company coming in?" Outside, twenty-four civilians began their flight to safety. Another one-hundred-plus were downstairs with some more who dared to venture outside, trickling in every few minutes.  
  
"Yes, sir. First Platoon is next in line, then 2nd, and 4th. Fourth has a bunch more machine guns, rockets, and 2 81-mm mortars."  
  
"Good. Once we get enough guys to protect the main building, I want to move some units across the street and increase the area we hold. Evidently their target is in this building so hopefully they will advance close enough that we can spring an ambush on them and nail them out from the station."  
  
Vrabel, nodded, saluted and started moving his platoon around to different parts of the building.  
  
  
  
  
  
The minutes passed and the threat advanced. The enemy force now appeared to be numbering around 400 armed soldiers, nine APCs, most likely filled with more troops, and four Type-90 tanks. Another flight of MH-6s came in, dropping off two large fuel canisters and picking up eight civilians. Soon after another platoon of infantry arrived and the choppers evacuated another twenty-four civilians. Arleigh was in the TOC making sure his sniper rifle was ready to go.  
  
"Captain, we've got about 325 armed personnel defending the building at this time. I want to consult you on this first, but how about we send the next platoon that comes in to occupy that building right over there? I'd say that'd give us a much better chance at winning this thing. Catch the enemy from above as they move in to attack." Arleigh gestured to a smaller building on the corner of the road running in front of the station.  
  
Surai thought for a moment. "Yeah, good idea. I'll make sure to..."  
  
Before the Captain could finish Arleigh's com-set came alive. "Sir, this is Smith at the north-west corner of the roof. I've got a visual on the lead element of the enemy force. They've got civilians directly in front of the two APCs and about twenty soldiers that I can see."  
  
"Hold on a second, Vince." He tapped the transmit button. "Smith, continue observation. Morris, keep watching to the northeast and tell those two Marines to hold their positions. Make sure nothing if coming from another direction." Arleigh turned back to Surai. "Inbound enemies."  
  
"Damn. Call off the reinforcements, you think?"  
  
"Yeah, that'd be best. Don't want them getting shot up." He grabbed his sniper rifle and Ryker. "Captain, I'm heading topside. You need me, you call me. I'm going to see if its possible to take out these guys with snipes to avoid the civilians."  
  
"Okay, Lieutenant. I'll spread the word." Surai got to work informing his platoon leaders around the building to start preparing for a fight.  
  
Arleigh motioned. "Miyuki, come with me. And grab that flak-vest."  
  
"But I thought I was going to be monitoring the photos." She was a bit hesitant, but she picked up the bullet-resistant vest and followed. Miyuki still hadn't gone to talk to Natsumi yet. It had been quite some time since she had seen Ken last, too. She wondered what he was doing.  
  
"Not anymore you're not. New priority for you." He keyed his com again as Ryker and Kobayakowa followed close behind. "Anderson, where are you?"  
  
The Master Sergeant's voice came back strong as ever. "Down at the trailer grabbing some ammo for my rifle. Need something?"  
  
"Yeah, get a spare 24 out with about a hundred rounds and bring it up to the roof. Where were you headed with that ammo?"  
  
"Up to the fourth floor, but I guess not anymore."  
  
"Okay. Listen up, everyone. I'm not just talking to Anderson anymore." All around the station, Arleigh's operators were listening in to the conversation anyway. "If you have your ACOG 4x's and they aren't on your rifle's right now, hurry the hell up and attach them. Single shot, picked targets. I don't want any civilians being hit. Understand?" Eleven acknowledgements came back. "Good. Shoot straight, guys."  
  
Anderson came to the roof, huffing and puffing. By now the lead element was about three hundred meters down the road from the corner of the station. Smith had spotted it at eight hundred meters out, where the road made a sharp bend and went out of sight. The main body of the force appeared there now. The twenty-year veteran of the Army handed rifle and belt of ammo to Arleigh.  
  
"Thanks, Anderson." Miyuki was by his side. He turned to her. "Miyuki, I'm going to ask you a hard question right now. I won't force a decision. But, there's only one way that I can see to save civilians lives right now, and that is to snipe the enemies. So, my question to you is, can you deal with shooting-to-kill? I know you're an outstanding markswoman. I know you have the ability to do it, but what I am asking you is can you deal with killing someone? I need snipers. You're the best one in the station."  
  
Miyuki looked at the rifle. It was a Remington M24 7.62mm .308 Calibre Bolt-Action Sniper Rifle. She had fired one at a shooting expo last year for police. It was a wonderful weapon to fire, she remembered. Semi-glossy black paint covered the ultra-sleek body of the rifle. A long10-power scope topped the rifle. Miyuki knew she could hit a target at this rifle's maximum effective range of over 900 meters, but that was at paper and metal targets. This time it would be people. 'Well, Natsumi has already had her trial by fire today. I guess its time for mine. But this wasn't something I planned on doing. Oh, well. Guess I have a job to do.'  
  
To her right, Smith yelled. "150 meters and closing. Orders, sir?"  
  
Arleigh glanced down at his feet and swore. "Pick a target, hold fire."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Miyuki, I need an answer."  
  
Granted, she wasn't a military person, but she could think of no other way to save the civilians and eliminate the terrorists. Miyuki Kobayakowa reached out and took the rifle. It was already loaded with six rounds. She flipped the scope caps off and set the bi-pod out. "If it's the only way, it's the only way. Where do you want me?" Now she was extra glad that she had changed out of her uniform.  
  
"Thanks, Miyuki. Come right over here. We'll be side-by-side for this. If you can't bring yourself to shoot, just be my spotter. Oh, and get that flak-vest on." Arleigh shouldered his M4A1 and set up his MSG- 90A1 Designated-Marksman-Rifle, removing the scope caps and setting its bi- pod. He brought Miyuki over to a spot on the rifle right beside an air- conditioner. "Let's rock n' roll."  
  
Miyuki took aim with the rifle and was presented with her first-ever live target. Not knowing it at the time, she used a tactic that many professional military and police snipers used to stay sane. By focusing on the fact that the target was an enemy who was out to kill you, it made it far easier to pull the trigger. Arleigh did the same next to her.  
  
The enemy was closing to within 50 meters. They were just about to reach the corner of the road and come out in front of the station. "Alright, Smith, Miyuki, be ready to fire on my mark." Downstairs, the defenders had orders from Surai to hold fire. The HMMWVs had been pulled back inside the entrance and waited for the APCs to be killed. Arleigh and the snipers would try to eliminate the enemy, giving the civilians a chance to run, so the defenders could destroy the APCs. Then the snipers would begin targeting the main force, now closing to 600 meters. 'They must be moving that slow to keep the civilians amongst them. Oh, well. Gives me more time to work with.' "All right, everyone, commence fire!" He depressed the trigger and sent a round right through the lead-man's shoulder, exploding his heart. Two other soldiers dropped, stunning their comrades and the civilians. Before panic could set in, Arleigh dropped another soldier. His semi-automatic rifle allowed him to fire faster than Smith or Miyuki, wielding bolt-action weapons.  
  
After the other two had taken their second shots, the panic finally set in. The civilians ran for their lives, leaving the confused terrorists naked in the street. The defenders below popped up from their hiding spots and took aim at the enemy left right in the middle of the intersection below. Just as the terrorists came to their senses, another three fell from sniper fire. Both APCs exploded as AT4s struck their sides. The two HMMWVs at the entrance lurched out into the street and eliminated the remaining terrorists with .50-Cal machine gun fire.  
  
Immediately, the three snipers covering to the northwest shifted their aim to the main force. They began cycling their weapons, dropping soldiers as they scrambled under cover to avoid the deadly accurate rain of bullets. The civilians covering that group also fled, some breaking jumping through windows of storefronts in an effort to flee their captors. Miyuki silently egged them on as she dropped her ninth target in nine shots fired. The enemy soldiers were so panicky and disoriented that Miyuki had time to reload the six-round rifle and continue firing. Surprisingly, the APCs weren't returning fire, something they were more than capable of doing with their 35mm cannons.  
  
Using the tanks and APCs as cover, the soldiers came out of hiding and began advancing again. This presented a problem, despite preventing any more deaths by snipers. Hiding made the soldiers unable to control the civilians who fled. In all, some fifty civilians ran. Unfortunately, some were shot by the terrorists before they could duck down alleyways or get into buildings. But the majority survived. Now the tanks and soldiers were open to fire from above and from the sea.  
  
"Cease fire!"  
  
Miyuki and Smith removed their hands from the triggers of their rifles. In all, Arleigh had seventeen kills, Miyuki nine, and Smith thirteen.  
  
"Good shooting, Kobayakowa. You too, Smith." He keyed his com-set. "Surai, call in the Little Birds." Arleigh smiled.  
  
The APCs and troops sped up and within two minutes were fifty meters from the intersection. But it was too late. Two AH-6 Little Birds from the 160th SOAR flew over. The choppers were the attack version of the transports Arleigh had gone to rescue the six officers in almost two weeks ago. Armed with two 7-shot rocket pods and two mini-guns, the choppers made mincemeat out of the remaining soldiers and several of the tanks. They hadn't even heard the choppers buzz in behind them. Only about thirty soldiers remained, along with an APC and both tanks. Downstairs, two Marines set up a Javelin Anti-Tank Missile. The firer leaned out into the open beyond the HMMWV slightly protruding from the entrance, and fired. With a jerk, the missile jumped out of the housing, engaged its engine at a safe distance from the launcher, and sped right into the turret of the lead Type-90. A brilliant explosion rattled the station as the missile hit the tank's ammo magazine. The explosion was so great that it knocked out the second tank, the last APC, and most of the remaining soldiers, who were felled by Arleigh, Miyuki, and Smith, bringing the kill totals to twenty- two, twelve, and sixteen.  
  
That's when the call came in.  
  
"Comet Four-Two is hit!" Silence for a long ten seconds. "We're going down! Four-Two hit! Going down hard! Map Grid, India Seven-Five-One- Eight! Lost the tail rotor! Four-Two going down! We're going down! Danny!"  
  
Comet Four-Two had been one of the AH-6s that provided air support for the defenders. The two choppers had made a circuitous route on the way back, seeing if there were any targets to hit. Several lucky AK hits had knocked out their tail rotor. Out of control, the helicopter aimlessly glided to its left, the direction of the spinning rotors having lost their counter- balancing tail. As it dropped, it bounced off of a few building tops. Pilot Martin Wilson frantically called out his situation, and just before the chopper struck the ground, he shouted the name of his co-pilot, Chief Warrant Officer Daniel Mills. All communication from the chopper ceased.  
  
Three kilometers away, Arleigh watched in stunned silence as the AH-6 went down. Ryker handed him the handset to the radio and he heard Surai calling over the line.  
  
"Little Bird Down! Little Bird Down! Command, this is Alpha Six! We have a Little Bird down at coordinates, Map Grid India Seven-Five-One-Eight!"  
  
"Roger that, Alpha Six. We copy" came back the voice of a radio operator at Camp Zama.  
  
Up on the rooftop, Arleigh jumped to his feet and backpedaled away from the edge of the roof. "Miyuki! Come on! Go downstairs and help deal with the civilians who fled the terrorists," he yelled. Picking his M4A1 off the ground by the door to the stairs, began shouting into his com-set. "This is Delta Five-One! Smith, Morris, Anderson and Ryker, you're staying here! The rest of you, On me! On me! We're going after them! Get two HMMWVs ready to move out!"  
  
He barreled past Marines talking about the engagement and the chopper going down. He stormed into the TOC and threw his sniper rifle on a table. "I'm taking seven of my Deltas out to go get them!"  
  
Surai almost had a heart attack. "No way, Lieutenant! They'll overrun that site in minutes! You'll never make it! Besides, we don't know if those two even survived the crash. What if you run into armor, huh? We'd lose two HMMWVs, eight guys we need defending this place, and most importantly, you! You're the head of the operation, don't forget, I may outrank you but we're all under your command!"  
  
"Too damn bad, sir. I have to try. I'm not letting them hang out to dry."  
  
The Captain was furious. "Then take my Marines with you."  
  
Arleigh pointed to the slip of fabric over his left-breast pocket that read 'Army.' "No way, sir. Army goes out for Army. Besides, you said it yourself; we can't afford to lose people. If we get caught, then losing eight is better than losing more than eight. I'm going." Arleigh turned to leave.  
  
"Wait." Surai grabbed the handset from the radio. "Command, Delta Five-One is taking a team out to rescue to the downed crew. Request air support."  
  
"Roger that, we'll chop a team of gunships to you. Archer Flight ETA 2 minutes."  
  
He turned back around. "There's your air support. Now go get those pilots, Rivera."  
  
"Aye, Cap'n" The Army Lieutenant saluted and rushed out, leaving Ryker behind in the TOC.  
  
A voice erupted on the radio again and Surai rushed to listen. "Four- Six, we show another two groups of enemy soldiers advancing from your northeast and southeast. Numbering about three hundred each. Tanks and APCs accompanying. Civilians amongst them. Advancing much faster than the other groups. Suggested ETA to your position, fifteen minutes."  
  
"Damnit."  
  
  
  
  
  
Downstairs, Aoi and Yoriko were leading civilians down into the cafeteria. The civilians had fled their captors recently in the battle and were quite shaken up. Once in the large room, Aoi helped an Army medic attend to a man who had been hit by shrapnel from the exploding tank.  
  
"Sir, everything will be alright." Aoi kept her calm despite the commotion around her. The panicky civilians had stirred up all the people in the room. It was hard for her to hear over the din, but she followed the Army medic's basic instructions through her good knowledge of English.  
  
"Okay, sit him up!" yelled the medic.  
  
"All right." Slowly the two worked to remove the metal disc that had lodged in the man's body. She held the man still and the wound slightly open at the same time while the medic used forceps to pull the shrapnel out. It took about two minutes, but the piece was finally extracted. Aoi slowly made her way around to people, trying to calm them. Already Yoriko, other police, and several Marine Corpsman were doing the same.  
  
It was now around 3:20 PM, seven minutes after the shooting stopped. Miyuki had arrived carrying a sniper rifle, which she stowed away under the stairs to avoid agitating the civilians even more. Aoi came to a man babbling to a Marine who obviously had no idea what the man was saying. But she did.  
  
"I've got to speak to whoever is in charge here! They need to know this! Please, find someone who can translate!"  
  
Aoi walked up to him. "Sir, is there a problem?"  
  
"Yes! Can you speak English? I need to talk to the commander here. I have valuable information for the commander."  
  
Aoi looked at the Marines and thought for a moment. "Well, the officers are very busy upstairs right now, but I can bring a message to them for you. Hold on." She scanned the room for a certain fellow officer. "Miyuki!"  
  
Her hair swayed back and forth as she came over to Aoi and the man. "Yes?"  
  
"This guy says he has information about the guys were fighting. You were just upstairs, is Arleigh busy?"  
  
"I don't know. I was up on the roof helping him, well, with something." It was hard for her to say. In her mind, the same thing Natsumi had gone through began to ignite. She was questioning herself, too. But for her, she had something to occupy her and therefore pushed the thought aside and focused on her current task. "He rushed downstairs, I'm not sure where he is. Probably in the operations room." She didn't know that while rushing downstairs he had called the Deltas together to go out and get the down pilots.  
  
"Okay, I won't bother him now, then. Anyway, you speak and understand English better than I do. I offered to go speak to the Americans about what this guy has to say, and so I'll need someone who speaks English better than I do to make sure I get everything across."  
  
"All right."  
  
The man wasn't too happy with the compromise, but he accepted the offer. "Okay, while we were being rounded up and being placed to cover their advance..."  
  
Miyuki cut him off. "You mean the terrorists?"  
  
"Yes, them. I overheard them talking. The terrorists are Japanese, but there are many amongst them who are not. A lot of them appear to be Arab. They were discussing the operation to take over the Ward. Well, they were talking about their fighting. They said that, and I quote, 'the diversion is going well.' Now, I'm not sure what that means."  
  
"And?" Aoi was hoping that this man knew a lot more than this. This would be a big help to Arleigh and the defenders.  
  
"They said that they hoped to convince the JGSDF troops by nightfall that the Americans had planned to take over this station and take something out of it, I don't know what, but, anyway. They said that once the troops were convinced, they'd enter the attack too. The JGSDF troops are just sitting around. I was captured near where the military train stopped. The terrorists are using some of the equipment, but none of the troops were actually doing anything that I could see. They were chatting with the terrorists and seemed to be fine with them. I heard some talking about 'those dirty Americans' and such. Personally, I think they're all on drugs or something. We were getting abused right there and they didn't care at all. After a while, they moved us down some streets into a wide space by a small footbridge. They made us all pledge our allegiance to their cause or we would be 'disposed of.'" The man made quotation marks in the air with his fingers on the last two words. "Anyone who wouldn't was shot. It was terrible. After the first two people were shot, no one dared say no. They said their cause was to rid the cancer of American influence from Japan, and they were starting right here with the Sumida Ward. There were some tourists amongst our group and all of them were shot, regardless of where they came from. Then they made us fill in their formation. They said we'd be soldiers just like them, defending against air attacks. I knew that they meant they were using us to abuse the American's Rules of Engagement when dealing with civilians in combat. It took a long time to march here, but as soon as those snipers opened up on the soldiers, we all made a run for it."  
  
Miyuki was silent. Her mind raced with what the man had just said to her. 'Convince, what the hell does that mean? If they let the train come into the Ward and are letting the terrorists use their equipment, then they have to be in some agreement. Maybe that means that they just need to convince them that Americans are here and are kill Japanese. Then the soldiers will be ready to attack us full force. Once they, who are trained soldiers, attack, and in large numbers, this place will be overrun. But what is the diversion all about? Do the terrorists have some ulterior motive for being here? There's got to be something more to this.' "Is there anything else you can tell us?"  
  
The man frowned and thought for a moment. "Not much except that I saw a map that a terrorist was carrying. He tripped near me and I caught a glimpse of the map. It looked like the TV station about six kilometers from here was circled along with several other places throughout the Ward. I couldn't tell what they were, but there was a big circle with 'TV Station' written next to it. I have no idea what that means. He picked up the map quick and stuck me. That's how I got this." The man pointed to a large cut on the back of his head.  
  
"Are you okay? Do you need medical attention?" Aoi asked, reaching for some antiseptic pads in her pocket that she had taken from a medical kit earlier.  
  
"No, no, I'm fine."  
  
Despite this, Aoi cleaned the wounded and placed some bandages on it. "There, at least it won't get infected." She threw away the cleaner and took the man's hand. Aoi took Miyuki aside for a moment. "I think they have to hear this from him personally."  
  
"I agree. Let's take him up there now. If this is all true, this could really turn things in our favor. Maybe the government will give us more help. I'll grab my rifle, hold on. Be right back."  
  
"Wait, your rifle?" She was confused.  
  
Miyuki glanced down for a moment. "Um, yeah. Arleigh needed my help shooting upstairs so I was on the roof sniping enemies. It was the only way we could stop them without hitting civilians in the process."  
  
"Oh, are you okay?"  
  
"Yes, I'm fine." She knew she wasn't, but there was a time and place for that and it wasn't now or here.  
  
Aoi nodded and turned back to the man. "We're not taking a message for you. You're coming with us. I think the commander will listen to that anyway. I need you to tell him exactly what you told me." Before they could begin to leave, shooting upstairs erupted. Aoi held the man back and looked up at the ceiling, along with everyone else trying to gauge the horrendous firefight. Two Delta Force medics, three Marines, and two Army soldiers raced into the cafeteria carrying two badly wounded men. They wore pilots' uniforms. Clearing off two tables and shooing away people, the Delta medics immediately began working on the pilots. One pilot wasn't breathing.  
  
Aoi was horrified and Miyuki couldn't muster a single word. She wasn't even Christian, but she thought, "God have Mercy on them."  
  
  
  
  
  
QUESTIONS & COMMENTS: Bravo26Flashpointyahoo.com 


	8. Walk in the Park

The Siege  
Chapter 8: Walk in the Park  
By JagdPanther  
  
It was only four minutes since Comet Four-Two had gone down. Arleigh raced over to the Delta's weapon trailer. The other seven operators coming on the rescue mission were already there. "Max out ammo and grenades!" he shouted. "We've got air support on station and ready to escort us in to the crash site. We zip in, we pick them up, and we zip back out, if possible."  
  
McMichael attached a new box of ammo for his light-machine gun before saying, "Sir, what if we get cut off at the crash site and can't make it back here?"  
  
"Sergeant, you know damn well what we're going to do if that situation presents itself." And everyone did. "We're going to secure and defend the crash site and the pilots if it comes down to that. No one gets left behind, you know that. Those fly-boys bust their asses everyday for us. We're going in and getting them one way or another." Arleigh grabbed a few more 40mm grenades and stuffed them into pouches on his webbing. "If we run into any resistance, shoot straight. Don't loli-gag with one target. Shoot to kill. All right, let's roll, people!"  
  
The Deltas loaded up into two HMMWVs. One operator in each truck manned the .50-Cal turret machine gun, one drove, and two provided covering fire out of the right and left windows. As they left the confines of the walled-in station, the operators could see several Marines, Tropics, and police cheering them on from the windows. Jones, manning the second HMMWVs turret saluted the station as they pulled away.  
  
In the lead truck was Arleigh, his rifle pointed out the front passenger-side window. "Okay, the crash site is three klicks away. McMichael, just keep straight on this road for its entire length, then hang a right, go two blocks, a left, for three blocks, and another left for a block and we should be there. You get that?"  
  
"Roger, sir. Length, right two, left three, left one. Got it." He scanned the road ahead of him for anything that might suggest an ambush.  
  
"Good. Let's haul a little ass. Pedal to the metal, Sarge." Arleigh silently prayed to himself that they would make it in time. He looked up to see an Apache gunship fly overhead followed by another off to the left.  
  
Inside the cab, the radio came alive. "Delta Five-One, this is Archer Lead. Initial pass indicates that you are clear to the crash site. Doesn't look like any enemy units between you and there. But you've got a lot of abandoned vehicles all over the place. Be careful. Nothing that you can't get past, but nothing that can't cause an accident, either. Over."  
  
McMichael leaned over and tapped a transmit button. "Affirmative, Archer. Thanks for the info." The journey took only a few minutes due to the Sergeant's lead-foot. He smoothly darted the HMMWV around cars parked in the road. There were no civilians in sight. If there were any left, they either were hiding in buildings or had made breaks for the bridges out of the Ward and to the safety of friendly lines.  
  
Arleigh jumped out of the HMMWV upon reaching the smoking AH-6. It sat upside down inside a circle formed by some trees. "Secure the perimeter!" Immediately the six Deltas not manning the machine guns formed a wheel around the craft. Arleigh saw the glint of sunlight on metal across the street up in a window. "Take cover!"  
  
It had been a trap. If Archer Flight had made its initial pass a short while earlier, they would've seen the terrorists moving to occupy the buildings around the circle of trees. Rifles and machine guns opened up on the Deltas. The six exposed men dove for cover while the gunners swiveled the large-calibre guns to meet the 360-degree threat. Rifles, machine guns, and grenades all began their deadly duel to see who would live and who would die.  
  
  
  
Back at the station, the defenders listened to the gunfire that had erupted. There was the heavy banging of the .50 Cals, the staccato clicks of the M4A1s, and the deep clashing of AKs. No one could tell who was winning the fight.  
  
"Sounds like they ran into a shit storm," quipped Morris in Japanese. "Hope they get out all right. The sound doesn't seem to be moving so they have to be caught up somewhere. You'd be able to tell if it was a rolling fire-fight."  
  
Natsumi wasn't bothering to look out the window and watch for enemies. All she could think about was Arleigh, trapped, fighting for his life and the lives of everyone around him and no one, not even she, could do anything about it. "So all we can do is wait and see what happens?"  
  
"That's about it, miss." Morris lit up a cigarette and continued to watch the area outside for any signs of movement. "Just wait and pray. That's it." His eyes scanned back and forth, right and left, for anything. He worried about some shadows created by the many buildings. Enemies could be lurking there. His fear was quickly answered. A bullet whizzed by his left ear, so close that the heat created by the round singed his short sideburns. "Sniper!" Morris opened up on what he thought was the likely source of the shot, a shadow that seemed to be moving. Actually, the movement was the enemy sniper, shifting position. Another sniper next too him fired off another shot that followed his first shot into the floor above where Natsumi and Morris were.  
  
Natsumi quickly regained her fighting spirit and fired along with Morris at the general area of the targets. About thirty rifles made quick work of the snipers, but more men barreled out of nearby buildings, firing up into the station. How they had advanced, no one knew. Possibly they had made their way through back alleyways and through buildings themselves to move up. The sniper in the open had been very stupid to not fire from real cover, such as from a window or a rooftop. Natsumi loaded a fresh clip and continued firing, felling a man wielding an RPK machine gun. The shooting stopped in a few moments. Another suicide charge had been decimated.  
  
"Why do they keep doing that? They're not accomplishing anything." Natsumi looked over at the Delta Operator, trying to rekindle the cigarette he had inadvertently blown out when he almost had a heart attack from the sniper's bullet sailing by.  
  
Morris succeeded in lighting the danger-to-his-health and took a drag. "These guys definitely aren't trained very well to be doing this stuff. If they were smart, they'd send the real Japanese troops after us. They'd we'd be in big trouble. And if they would actually use those tanks and APCs for their intended purpose rather than just meat wagons shuttling troops around."  
  
"Like systematically destroying the building with their cannons?" It was obvious to Natsumi enough already.  
  
"Pretty much."  
  
She mused, "Maybe they want something here and that's why they aren't attempting to destroy it."  
  
"That could be it. Wouldn't want to damage a product that you intend to obtain. But I couldn't see what they'd want with a police station. It obviously isn't guns, since they've got a whole hell of a lot of them already."  
  
Natsumi thought for a few moments. "It can't be prisoners, we don't have any in holding right now. I don't get it." It was then that she remembered Arleigh. "Hey, the sound of the fight is moving."  
  
Morris cocked his head to one side. "Yeah, you're right, it is."  
  
  
  
Jones' first burst of fire exploded a window frame, catching a terrorist in the chest. "One down!" By now, his fellow gunner was also firing. The machine guns ripped the buildings apart. Simply saturating the area with fire was enough to buy the exposed men some time.  
  
McMichael deployed the bi-pod for his S.A.W. began providing covering fire. Next to him, Arleigh launched two grenades at a where a majority of the fire was coming from. His split-second notice of the impending ambush saved his men's lives. Now, from behind cover, they could fight. Up above, Archer flight was hovering and using their 30mm chain-guns to destroy the surrounding buildings. This allowed the operators to act.  
  
Arleigh stopped firing, reloaded his rifle, and turned around. He produced a smoke grenade from a pouch, pulled the pin, let the arming lever fly, cooked it for three seconds, and tossed it at the chopper. It clanged off of the fuselage and rolled to a stop right in front of the overturned cockpit. The grenade burst open, spilling white smoke all around the chopper. The Lieutenant jumped up from his crouched state and charged through the smoke, enemy gunfire kicking up chips of concrete sidewalk around his feet. Not stopping soon enough, he rammed right into the chopper. He felt inside the cockpit, found the neck of Mills, and checked for a pulse. He blew the smoke out of his face to get a better look. The co-pilot was unconscious, but not dead, and Wilson lightly groaned, his head lolling back and forth a bit. Blood dripped down, or rather, up his neck towards his face. On the other side of the chopper, Stevens arrived. "Unbuckle him and bring him out. Slowly, Stevens, slowly. He could have back injuries." Over the din, Arleigh then shouted, "Cover us! We're pulling them out!" Carefully, he slipped Mills from the restraining straps and cradled the body as it slipped out of the cockpit. Stevens had done the same. Arleigh grabbed a satchel charge off of his back and primed it for radio detonation. Tossing it inside the cockpit, he yelled "Move it! Move it!"  
  
The two operators hefted the flyers and ran for their lives. Emerging from the smoke, they oriented themselves towards the HMMWVs and continued on. Around them, the other four operators jumped up, firing their weapons on full automatic, and raced for the transports. Jones was firing a pistol in one hand and attempting to load another box of .50-Cal ammo with his other hand. Obviously it wasn't working too well. He was startled when the rear hatch flew up behind him. Stevens was putting the pilot into the back of the truck. "Hey, Stevens! Cover me!"  
  
Stevens slammed the hatch down and began firing. This allowed Jones to use both hands to replace the very heavy ammo boxes that supplied the large machine gun. He finished quickly and began firing again. "Thanks! Now get in!" he yelled, opening fire. Just then, a bullet ripped into his arm. The force of the strike ripped part of his uniform off, including the American flag patch on his sleeve. The patch caught the slight breeze and fell onto the roadway. Jones swore but kept on firing. Wounds would have to wait until the mission was over.  
  
Up ahead, McMichael scrambled into the lead HMMWV and cranked up the engine. AK bullet holes peppered the windshield, so he used the butt of his rifle to strike it down and into the forward position so it wouldn't hamper his view. Arleigh had already closed the hatch and was jumping in when McMichael floored it. The Lieutenant almost fell back out but regained his hold on the vehicle and pulled himself in.  
  
He flicked the radio on and yelled in, "All right, Archers, lead us back! We're moving out!" Then he grabbed his rifle. 'Great, I maxed out ammo before I came and I used five clips going cyclic back there. That's half the ammo I brought. Christ.' Almost forgetting, he reached inside his pocket and produced a small black cylinder with a red button at one end. After depressing the button, the satchel charge in the AH-6 went off, ripping the small chopper apart. It was standard operating procedure to destroy unrecoverable downed aircraft.  
  
Out of nowhere, four technicals appeared. They began firing immediately on the trucks. Jones swung the gun around, despite the increasing fury of pain in his arm, and eliminated one pursuing vehicle. It crashed, taking a second technical with it. The other two continued to chase the Americans back towards the station. Heavy machine gun rounds slammed into the rear of the HMMWV, causing it to buck around from the massive force. Jones hoped that no rounds made it to the wounded pilot at his feet inside the truck.  
  
In front, the HMMWV's gunner couldn't fire back for risk of hitting the second truck. So Jones had to fight alone. Almost. The Archer's came screaming overhead, in the opposite direction of the fleeing trucks, and fired their 70mm rockets. Both remaining technicals exploded brightly. Another group of technicals inadvertently came out ahead of the HMMWVs, assuming that they had already passed. The lead truck quickly dispatched the confused terrorists.  
  
Soon, the two-truck convoy neared the station. Rounding the corner to the station, the Deltas were met with a mass of civilians fleeing into the station. Arleigh looked out the front of the vehicle and saw that far down the road, another terrorist attack group was approaching. They were trying a new tactic. Instead of bothering to use civilians as cover while attacking, they would send the civilians ahead of them in an effort to inundate the defenders with people and then attacking while they were trying to control the sudden influx. It was working. McMichael weaved his was around civilians and slowed to make the final turn into the station. As he was doing do, Arleigh popped open the passenger door and jumped out, rolling to a stop several feet away. McMichael was too busy driving to even notice, but the driver of the second HMMWV noticed and stopped beside the officer.  
  
"Get in, sir!"  
  
"No, no! Get in the goddamn station!" He waved the truck off and ran towards the attacking force. Unlike the previous attacking groups, it began firing well away from the station. Up on the roof, the snipers were discouraged and took cover. The 35mm auto-cannons of the APCs slashed at the roofline, sending bits of concrete raining down on people in front of the station. Arleigh jumped behind a car and checked his ammo. 'Four clips of ammo, three 40mm grenades, two smoke grenades, two fragmentation grenades. Yay.'  
  
He lined up a shot with his M203A1 40mm grenade launcher and sent a round screaming towards the advancing soldiers. It dropped right in-between four soldiers, casting them aside like rag dolls. Another launched grenade eliminated three more soldiers. Rifle fire pinged off of the car he used for cover. Thankfully none of the APCs were taking shots at him. Yet. If they did, Arleigh was in huge trouble. Fire from the station joined him, but the enemy kept coming. This party was much tougher than the previous groups.  
  
McMicheal dashed back out of the compound as soon as he had parked the HMMWV. He fell heavily next to his officer. "What the hell are you doing, Sir?"  
  
"What the hell do you think I'm doing," retorted, loading another magazine of rifle ammo, his second to last one. "Providing cover! Giving them a second target to think about! Killing the enemy! Now fire, damnit!"  
  
McMichael opened up with his S.A.W, cutting down several more soldiers. The return fire was becoming more intense as the enemies shifted their attention to the Deltas. Stevens braved the crossing and made it to his comrades, providing more rifle fire.  
  
"Last mag!" shouted Arleigh, driving his last 30-round clip into the rifle. Stevens leaned over, tapped the Lieutenant on the head, and forked over a magazine. Then Arleigh finally noticed some civilians huddled near a doorway some ways up the road. "Cover me!" He vaulted over the hood of the car and made a mad dash for the frightened people. Just as he was making ready to dive into the doorway, a powerful force, like a baseball bat, threw his head back, slamming him into the ground. Arleigh rolled over onto his back, blinked, felt the excruciating pain in his head, and waited for death to take him.  
  
  
  
Upstairs, Ken Nakajima fired a captured AK rifle at the advancing party. These enemies were so close that he could vaguely make-out facial expressions. Below he could see the HMMWVs pulling into the compound. A soldier had fallen out of the first truck and made his way behind a car for cover. Grenades flew from the man's rifle and knocked out several enemies. Ken didn't realize that the man was Arleigh and continued to fire his own rifle.  
  
After loading another magazine, Ken noticed that two others now accompanied the soldier, also working to draw enemy fire away from the station. All of the sudden, the soldier jumped up and ran to a doorway where some civilians hid from the crossfire. The soldier was stuck hard by a bullet and flopped to the ground. He rolled over and flailed his arm a slight bit before. An Army machine gunner down below in the courtyard attending to a civilian who had just come in immediately ran out into the street and dragged the soldier into cover, enemy bullets kicking up dust and debris all around them. Ken admired how brave the Americans were, risking their lives for their brothers-in-arms. Going out for a downed helicopter crew, rushing into the line of fire to saved a wounded comrade, and braving superior enemy forces to protect the station, Ken's regard for the Americans was growing by the second.  
  
Across the street, the Army gunner stripped off the soldier's small black hockey-helmet. The sight stopped Ken cold for a moment. It was Arleigh. 'Oh no, is he dead?' That was answered a few seconds later when Arleigh reached up with both hands and held his head, rocking back and forth, trying to regain his senses. His helmet was split in two on the ground by his feet. The bullet had gouged a long enough and large enough hole in the helmet to sever it in two, but Arleigh seemed to be uninjured. 'His neck must be sore,' thought Ken, watching the Delta Operator massage his neck. 'At least it didn't snap his neck.'  
  
Just as Ken had those thoughts, a Marine next to Ken took a bullet to the shoulder, throwing the Marine back into the wall behind him. The Marine writhed in pain and grabbed at his shoulder, blood spilling out between his fingers.  
  
"Ah, damnit! Medic!" howled the Marine.  
  
Ken shouldered his AK and slid over to the Marine, applying pressure to his shoulder. The bullet went in the front and out the back, so Ken pressed hard on both sides to stop the blood flow. "Hold on!" he yelled in passable English. 'I have to get him to a medic, but, damn, I don't think they're any up here!' he thought. Looking around, Ken affirmed his thought. 'Got to get him to an aide station.' Ken hefted the young Marine Private, First Class in his arms and moved at a careful jog down the hall, around the corner, and into an aide station where some medics and other soldiers already were attending to downed individuals. Some were Marines, some were Army, and some were even the police officers that worked at Bokuto just as Ken did.  
  
He set the soldier down on a table that a Navy Corpsman pointed too. Immediately another Marine came over, bumped Ken aside, and began applying a field dressing to the wounded man's shoulder.  
  
The tall bike-patrolman stepped back and looked around him. The medical personnel stayed calm and collected. None of them panicked as they dealt with the shocked and stunned wounded. They worked tirelessly to help the people who could not help themselves. Grim reality set it for Nakajima, as it had for Natsumi, when he saw a fellow bike-patrolman propped up against the wall, two bullet-holes in his stomach. "Ichiro!"  
  
Patrolman Ichiro Wasataki sluggishly looked up at his friend, the blood-loss dulling his senses. "Nakajima?"  
  
"Ichiro, what did the medics say? Are you going to be all right? What happened?" Ken helped the man sit up more.  
  
He coughed up a little blood and wiped his mouth. "It was just bad luck, Ken. When that group came up from behind a few minutes ago, I wasn't paying attention and a sniper got me in the gut. Then I took another round when I tried to stand back up. The medic said I'll be fine, I just need to rest. They fear that I'll black out if I move to much." Ichiro's speech was slightly slurred and his eyes were glazed over. "That one, over there," he motioned to an Army medic, "he gave me some morphine for the pain, but that's what is causing me to be so sluggish, they said. It's dropping my heart rate low. I guess I'm done for the day." He managed a weak smile before coughing up a little more blood. Ichiro had come from the slums of Tokyo. His greatest dream in life was to be a police officer and help clean up the city he had grown up in and make it better for future generations. Now he sat there, life fleeing from his body. "Ken, I'm not stupid. I know I'm going to die. Tell Aya I love her."  
  
In that moment, Ken's mind blocked out the screams of pain around him and the gunfire outside. It was just him and his fellow patrolman. "Ichiro, you're going to be fine. Just don't think about that. You'll be just fine. Just hang in there. Hey, look, we're still on for next week going to the baseball game. You're not getting out of it that easily. My team is going to the championship and you know it. Don't try to deny it." He grabbed Ichiro's hand and squeezed it. "You'll live. You're going to go home soon and Aya is going to be there waiting for you. I'm not going to be you're message boy. You'll tell her that yourself."  
  
"No, I won't. Tell her for me, please. Oh, and Ken? Your team sucks. Fujita is going to the championship. You know it, I know it, everyone knows it." He managed a weak smile. The morphine had only dulled the pain, but now all the pain he ever felt disappeared, and he felt as fine as he ever had before in life. His eyes shifted to look straight ahead. The image of his long-dead parents appeared in front of him, warmly beckoning him forth. Blackness crept across his view, and Ichiro Wasataki felt no more.  
  
Ken looked on is silence, still not aware of his surroundings. Ichiro's eyes were still open, but he knew that the man was dead. Carefully, he reached up and closed the man's eyelids. A hand softly grabbed his shoulder.  
  
Specialist, Fourth Class Ryan Ida, a medic with the Army's 25th Infantry Division [Light], spoke in his parents' native tongue to the police officer kneeling by his departed friend. "I'm sorry. There was nothing I could do. It was only a matter of time. I gave him some morphine so he could at least die without pain. I'm sorry."  
  
Officer Ken Nakajima slowly stood to face the American. "Thank you for what you did."  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"Yes, I'll be fine." He fought back a few tears and managed a response. "I guess I'll go back to the line."  
  
Ida stopped him. "Are you sure you'll be fine? You don't look it. Better you collect yourself first rather than me collect your pieces if you zone out during a fight."  
  
Ken wanted to strike the man for insinuating that he'd do something of the like, but logic won the battle and he accepted the fact that maybe a short break to settle his mind would do good. The medic sighed deeply and left the officer to go help another injured soldier.  
  
'How many more friends will I lose before this is over?' thought Ken as took a seat at the far end of the conference room-turned-aide station. 'I hope Miyuki is alright.'  
  
  
  
  
  
The defenders managed to hold off both attacks, but at a cost. Five Marines were dead, with another sixteen wounded. Two Army personnel died in the attack, another seven were wounded. Eighteen civilians were dead as a result enemy fire. Their flight from their captors was started by a mass- execution. One police officer was dead and four were wounded. The pilot and co-pilot of the downed AH-6 were both alive. The medics had been able to restart Mills' breathing through CPR and even managed to bring him back into consciousness, but the 160th SOAR pilot remained in bad condition. He would have to be evacuated. Wilson, on the other hand, was fully awake and seemed to be recovering fine. They deduced that he did not have any internal damage, but he did have several large bruises from the jostling he received during the crash. His smaller frame reduced the amount of his body that could be hit by flying debris.  
  
A glaring fault was also finally realized. The two angles of attack that the enemy had chosen this time were the best out of all used so far. Both directions were virtually unobservable from the roof. The height of the buildings along the road kept the snipers on top from seeing what moved along the road. Terrorists who had climbed buildings were the ones who had suppressed the snipers on the roof, and so had an APC just close enough to aim at the roof with its turret. Anything shorter than an APC and the buildings could not be seen. That road also wound around the city with large trees on either side. If the enemy so desired, they could move troops up virtually unseen from the air, the only source of warning for the defenders. The soldiers began to understand the Delta leader's actions as the fight began. By firing at the advancing force, he was the only defender able to bring accurate fire to bear on the force that had not already moved to close for comfort to the building. Only then could the defenders inside the compound see the force and fire their own weapons. This fact would that night play a huge role in the defense of the base. What the soldiers, police, and civilians had seen so far would not come close to what awaited them once the sun went down, as it was beginning to now.  
  
For now, all the station's occupants could do was prepare for the next attack. Burning hulks of more APCs and tanks dotted the three main avenues of attack along with hundreds of bodies of terrorists. The sight was not pleasant for anyone, but they would have to do with it. No one was venturing outside the perimeter to clean things up. Besides, the hulks and bodies would be obstacles for any further attacks, a warning to the terrorists and soldiers that any attack would meet the same fate. All across the station people worked to prepare.  
  
The Chief made rounds of the building, encouraging the officers who had seen their fellow police fall wounded. News of Ichiro's death had spread like wildfire. Everyone saw that no one was safe from what was happening.  
  
Yoriko helped some fellow officers make coffee and prepare food for the civilians. They were all starving, frightened, and cold. Three flights of two of choppers, this time four of the bigger UH-60s and two smaller MH-6s, were inbound to extract the wounded and more civilians, dropping off food, water, ammunition, and another platoon of Army soldiers in the process. About 58 in all could be evacuated between all six helicopters.  
  
Aoi and Miyuki were in the TOC with Captain Surai going over with the man what he had told the two young officers about the intentions of the terrorists. Surai immediately had the man talk with the intelligence personnel over the radio. This would shed more light on the situation facing the defenders of Bokuto Station.  
  
Ken contemplated the loss of his friend as he cleaned the AK in preparation for the next attack. He'd have to go downstairs and get some more ammunition. He was down to a few magazines. If there wasn't any left, he would have to find another weapon to take up.  
  
Natsumi found Arleigh in the halls, an ice pack taped to his neck, strained and sore. When she asked him if there was something wrong, he avoided the question and asked her is she was all right. She was still worried as he walked around, talking to Marine and Army officers who held the defenses of the building tight with their men. It was obvious that he didn't want to think of his own problems at that moment. As he had learned all throughout his short but action-packed military career, he just shrugged off the pain and continued to function normally.  
  
  
  
  
  
Arleigh finished discussing the new intelligence with the civilian, Surai, and an intelligence agent on the radio. Now it was time to get chewed out.  
  
Surai replaced the radio's handset and turned to face the Delta. "Rivera, that was goddamn stupid. What the hell were you thinking? You could've got yourself and your men killed."  
  
"I thought you authorized me to go get the pilots? What, change your mind in the meantime? Come on, Cap'n. It was a walk in the park!" He laughed. Nearby, Miyuki and Kinoshita rolled their eyes.  
  
"You know what I mean, damnit. Jumping out of that truck and firing at that group alone." The Captain was quite angry.  
  
"Hey, I knew there was no other way. I knew when I was on the roof that you couldn't see down the road so I took it upon myself to stall them a little bit so the enemies in the forefront could be dealt with by our guys in the building. What if I hadn't done it? Maybe we would've been overwhelmed when the rest of the force moved up. Maybe, not likely, but maybe."  
  
Surai listened, but disagreed. "Look, we've got authorization to use the mortar tubes for defense. We used them, they worked. If one of those tanks had taken interest in you, you'd be dead right now. Thank God for those Apaches and their Hellfire missiles or I'd be thinking of how to report your death up the chain of command. And even so, you almost did get killed! You're lucky you weren't a half step slower or that bullet would've taken your head off. You're lucky it just split your helmet. On that note, there're some extra K-pots down in one of the trucks. Go get one. You'll need a helmet." K-pots were military slang for the Kevlar- covered plastic helmets that were standard issue to all military personnel. The Deltas didn't use them in favor of the smaller, lighter hockey-style helmets. "Did you get the new platoon settled in yet?"  
  
"Yeah." The next platoon from the 5th Regiment of the 25th Infantry Division had just arrived a few minutes earlier. "All of our current wounded were flown out along with those who died. Didn't leave much room for more civilians."  
  
"I know. We lost a lot in that last raid."  
  
"Too much for my comfort. If a concerted terrorist attack could do that, imagine what those Japanese troops could do. Anyway, it's starting to get dark out. I figure we have another hour, hour and a half of good light before the sun makes it below the height of most of the surrounding buildings. Now, we can't see down the two avenues of attack that they just used, and they know it. The tanks, APCs, and troops that didn't get killed pulled back and probably reported that they faced little resistance along that path. With night coming it'll be exponentially harder to identify targets, even from the air. I'm requesting permission to send out LPs."  
  
Miyuki couldn't help but listen in from where she sat at a computer terminal with Kinoshita going over photos, back at her original task. "What is an 'LP'?"  
  
Arleigh and Surai gave her pained glances, knowing they were being overheard. "Listening Posts," responded Rivera. "It's a small group of troops deployed away from the main force to detect and possibly attack any enemy forces maneuvering towards the main force."  
"Depends on where you want to put them, Lieutenant." Surai quipped.  
  
Arleigh went over to the map of the surrounding area and pointed out several spots. "Okay, LP One, six guys, one of my Deltas, the rest can be Marines or Army, I don't care. I want it here, 800 meters up the road." He circled the end of the road that the first attacks had come from with a grease pencil.  
  
Surai nodded. "Okay, approved. But I want a HMMWV up there with them, so that's another two guys at least. If the shit hits the fan, I want them with a quick escape plan back inside the perimeter."  
  
Arleigh winced a bit. "Well, off to the side, across the road maybe. I don't want it anywhere that an enemy can see it and know that troops are around. God forbid he figures it out and tells his buddies before the LP can take him out."  
  
"I can see that. Okay, off to the side. Maybe just down the road, say, here, about 50 meters. Next one?"  
  
"LP Two? Here. About, maybe, 700 meters out. There are some covered portals there where a HMMWV can hide." Arleigh circled a spot down the road that ran behind the station, where the second prong of the most- recent attack had come from. "Six or seven men. Two of my Deltas, again, the rest Marines or Army. I don't care. I was intending for them to have escape plans, anyway, because we can't provide direct fire support to them unless they were only 300 meters up the road like we can down the road where LP One will be. I'd prefer if the mortar tubes were oriented for quick support to them and LP Three since they will be the most vulnerable if attacked."  
  
"Approved. LP Three, then?"  
  
"Here. One kilometer up the road. One entire klick. No HMMWV, though. No place for it. If they need to egress back to the base, they'll have to hoof it. It'll be the most vulnerable of all of them and the place that the enemy will most likely attack from tonight. That's why LP Three will be completely volunteer and why I will be manning it myself. Seven guys. Another of my Deltas, Marines and Army, and myself."  
  
"Approved for deployment, but forget about you going. You've done your share today of almost getting killed. You're second in command here. I need you back here helping run this SNAFU."  
  
"Captain, trust me on this. There is a thin alleyway that runs the length of these buildings. We can slip out the back door and make it down the row and back to base pretty quickly if we need to. But that one is the most vital of all the Posts and I want to run it." He lied. There wasn't any alleyway. He was just trying to get the Captain to agree. Surai knew full well there was absolutely no way to escape of trouble sprang up.  
  
Surai rolled his eyes and sighed. "I know I'm not going to convince you. Shit, go ahead."  
  
Rivera smirked and turned for the door. Miyuki caught his arm. "There isn't any alleyway, what are you talking about?"  
  
The Captain pretended not to hear and moved off to do his work, leaving Arleigh to defend his actions. "I know. So does he. But he knows that I'm going out there whether he likes it or not."  
  
"So, what is going to happen, then?"  
  
"Well, I'm going to take six volunteers out there and wait for the enemy. Then I'm going to ambush them and hope they focus on me rather than come here and hurt the rest of you. We'll be basically cut off from the station. Limited food, water, and ammo. Small chance of success, you know, the usual stuff." He laughed.  
  
"Arleigh, think of Natsumi. If anything happens to you, you know she'll be devastated." She had found time to see her friend. Natsumi has informed her that she thought very well that Arleigh felt the same as she did for him. "I know how she feels about you and how you feel about her. Just think for a moment."  
  
Arleigh bit his lip before he responded. "Miyuki, I have a duty to fulfill. My emotions can't get in the way of my responsibility. You know that. Nothing if going to happen to me, though. I have a responsibility, but I also have a drive to survive. I've got things to come back to. I won't go down easily." He patted her on the head and began to walk away.  
  
"L-T!" yelled Ryker. "Volunteering to go with you, sir."  
  
Rivera sighed and motioned him to follow. "Come on, let's go. You know, Ryker, I thought you were the only sane guy in this here Delta outfit. Maybe I was wrong. Apparently you have a death wish like the rest of us Operators." He thumbed his com unit on. "Morris and Jones, pair up. Restock on ammo, grenades, water, and food, and grab your night gear. Report to me in the TOC in five minutes. I'll give you your new orders. You're going out on LP duty. You're LP One. McMichael and Carlson, pair up. Same orders. You're now LP Two. Anderson, you're now in-charge of the remaining Deltas. Smith, stay on the roof with the sniper. Stevens, grab your com gear and report to the TOC. You're the new Delta RTO. Ryker is coming with me to LP Three. Move it, people." He turned off the com set. "Ryker, meet me downstairs at the Delta weapons trailer in 10 minutes. Grab two volunteers from this floor. Marines or Army, I don't care. I'll get three volunteers from the other floors."  
  
"Roger that, sir." The RTO finished packing up his equipment and moved out.  
  
Miyuki watched the Lieutenant as he waited to brief his Deltas. "Remember Natsumi, Arleigh. That's all I can say." She returned to her work.  
  
  
  
  
  
QUESTIONS AND COMMENTS: Bravo26Flashpoint@yahoo.com 


	9. Journey to the Line

The Siege  
Chapter 9: Journey to the Line  
By JagdPanther  
  
While the station prepared to release three groups of soldiers to set up outposts, the terrorists were planning their next move. They finally had what they needed to involve the Japanese Self-Defense Force troops. The charred remains of the overturned helicopter and the bloody American flag patch on the ground were the catalyst that set things in motion.  
  
Not far from the Sumida River, a terrorist lieutenant arrived at a compound with a piece of the chopper with a distinct marking still on it and the flag patch. Inside the room he entered sat the terrorist leader and the commander of the rogue JSDF forces.  
  
"You see, Colonel, the Americans are here. Just look. You see this wreckage with those damn red and white stripes, the blue box, and those white stars. You see what these letters say, don't you? 160th SOAR. That's right, the Americans elite helicopter pilots."  
  
The Japanese officer thought for several minutes, turning over the flag patch in his fingers, feeling the dried American blood. "My grandfather died fighting the Americans on Saipan. My grandmother was brutally murdered by their atomic bomb in Hiroshima. My mother was killed by a drunk American driver in Tokyo. And my sister. My dear sister. She was killed while on business in America. How can one nation cause me so much pain and agony? It is unforgivable. Now I have my chance to avenge my relatives. I only gave you my armored support until you showed me proof that it was the Americans who have chosen to operate here. Now you have given it to me. Your wish has been granted. My troops will attack as soon as they are ready. I will make sure you and your men are transported safely out of the country when you have what you want. My troops will secure the buildings you have asked for. The Americans will not bother you, you can count on that."  
  
"Thank you, Colonel. Japan will be returned to its days of victory over the dirty American devils with your help. You will also be greatly rewarded when our task is complete. The American Empire will fall." The terrorist leader stood and saluted. "For a world free from American oppression."  
  
The Colonel nodded and saluted. "And for my family." He spun on his heels, motioning for an aide to follow. "Come, Tanaka. Combat Regiment 1 will be the first to act. Prepare the 1st Battalion at once. They will attack tonight. 2nd Battalion and will secure the list of buildings provided to us. Have 3rd Battalion prepare to move. I will see how 1st Battalion's first attack goes before I commit 3rd. Have them move into a staging position that forms a small arc about 5 kilometers behind the station.. Coordinate with the officers of the insurgents. Remember that we must not harm the police station itself. Attack until the defenders are all killed, but do not destroy the building with explosives. A key part of the plan lies within that building. Without one part, nothing will work. We must have every part of the plan."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Colonel Nakatani walked with confidence. In his mind, the Japanese people still felt the sting of an embarrassing surrender to the Americans at the end of the Second World War. The people then never fought back. If they did, the American nation would not have risen to its imperialist high chair. It was unfortunate that he had to aid an illegal organization, but it was the only way to successfully attack America. He would be hailed as a hero around the world for helping take her down. No one would dare harm him. No one would dare harm Japan, which would soon enough be the world's one and only superpower.  
  
The plan known as B-1, developed by the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, was originally developed as an urban assault plan on the Bokuto Station. After complete success was achieved, the plan was increased to a plan that would be able to ruin the world economically and militarily. Nakatani was only concerned with destroying America, but the plan was designed to lift Japan into the height of supremacy. That was an added bonus, he thought, as he made his way to his command post across the road. When the country became the world's only superpower thanks to his men, the organization, and himself, the government would not take any action against him. Maybe they would even give him a medal. But everything was for his honor. Decades after the Americans had soiled his country and slain his loved ones, he would lead Japan to ultimate victory.  
  
"The time has come, Japan."  
  
  
  
"All right, you've got your orders, you know what you're going to do. We're doing this LRSU-style, guys. Pack claymores, food, water, two radios per LP, and, most importantly, lots of ammo. For support gunners, a thousand rounds of ammo is the minimum. For rifleman, twenty magazines of ammo is the preferable. Bring your rucksacks. Load everything up. Everyone understand?" Arleigh got affirmatives from the LP leaders. "Jones, stay here for a second." The rest of the Deltas left. "Jones, why didn't you tell me you got hit?"  
  
"Ah, come one, L-T. I'm fine. I didn't think it mattered. It's just a scratch. Yes, I can still do my job."  
  
"Bull. You're staying here. Go get Williams. Tell him everything he needs to know and send him down with Morris. I can't have you out there with a wound to start with. Things might get hairy tonight and I need everyone at 100%. Do you get me, Sergeant?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Jones said dejectedly and walked out of the TOC to find the Delta Operator who would replace him at LP Two.  
  
Arleigh grabbed all of his gear and left the TOC, Surai staring holes in his back, wondering if the Lieutenant would be alive the next morning. Along the way, Rivera picked up his three volunteers. Simply, he just shouted his intentions and asked anyone ready, willing, able, and crazy enough to come. Two Marine Lance Corporals and an Army Specialist, Fourth Class volunteered. "Well, it seems you three are mine for the next twelve hours. We're doing this LRSU-style. Fill up your rucks with water, food, grenades, and above all, ammo."  
  
One of the Marines asked, "LRSU?"  
  
"Long-Range-Surveillance-Unit, Corporal. This is what they do for a living. Sit and wait with tons of ammo deep in hostile territory waiting for some dumb schmuck to wander by."  
  
Down at the Delta ammo trailer, Arleigh began filling his rucksack, or his 'ruck,' with everything he'd need for the night. "Ah. My good old ruck. Makes me miss being an Infantry commander instead of a Spec Ops guy." He grabbed twenty-five magazines of ammo for his M4A1; a twenty- sixth was already locked-and-loaded into the rifle. About fifteen magazines for his MSG-90A1 went into the sack. Next came eight grenades for the M203A1 launcher and ten magazines for his Beretta M9 pistol, with an eleventh in the gun already. Seven fragmentation grenades, three smoke grenades, two flash-bang non-lethal disorientation grenades, two incendiary grenades, three infra-red strobes, one claymore anti-personnel mine, night- vision goggles, two 200-round belts of ammo for the M249 S.A.W. one of the Marines was taking, one 200-rd belt for the M240 one of the Army soldiers was carrying, two Meals-Ready-To-Eat, a dehydrated LRSU food ration, three 1-quart canteens of water, field dressings and bandages, a spare battery for the radio, two pen-flares, and other various pieces of equipment he needed. Ryker filled his ruck with the same items, as did the Marines and Army personnel. Ryker had grabbed a Marine radio operator and an Army medic as per Rivera's orders.  
  
"Christ, L-T. We're gonna die of exhaustion before we even get there carrying all this stuff. Look at this! This has got to be well over a hundred pounds!"  
  
"Yeah, well, it may save our lives tonight so quit your complaining, soldier. Once we get there we can dump this stuff on the floor."  
  
The American Lieutenant led the group back into the building. Police, Marines, Army, and civilians alike shouted encouragement to the seven soldiers. Their home for the night was far away from the station and relative safety, and everyone had found out quickly about the "Magnificent and Damn Stupid Seven." Arleigh sent the troops to the front entrance, where they would stage. Already LPs One and Two had left on his order. They both arrived with no problems. Now it was just a matter of waiting for the enemy. Arleigh had to settle one last matter, though, before he and his men left for LP Three, over a kilometer away.  
  
  
  
  
  
Natsumi sat in the cafeteria drinking coffee with Aoi and Yoriko. She looked at the clock on the wall. It was just past 5:38 PM. "When I look back on my life, this is the first day that I'm going to remember."  
  
"Why?" asked Yoriko.  
  
Swirling her coffee around, Natsumi responded, "Well, this is the first time I've ever seen people... die." She downed the rest of the cup. "This will probably have more impact on my life than anything I've ever have or ever will experience. Sure, I mean, criminals have pulled guns on me before. My life's been threatened before. But this, this is beyond all that. Hordes of people with guns, tanks, rockets, and the kitchen sink trying to kill my friends, everyone around me, and me. For what? We still don't know exactly what they're after."  
  
"Well, what that man told Miyuki and myself about the JGSDF soldiers and the terrorists working together seemed pretty bad. Arleigh and the rest of the Americans didn't seem to know what to make of the whole thing, but they're taking everything that they can get. Arleigh hopes we can capture a terrorist or a Japanese soldier alive so they can be interrogated. Maybe they can shed some light on the whole thing." Aoi never looked so down before, as she sulked in the chair.  
  
Civilians milled around. Some tried to sleep. Others talked incessantly. Anything to pass the time. Every now and then a soldier or two would come down to get some coffee to bring back up to the defenders. It was time to live out the U.S. military motto: Let's hurry up and wait.  
  
Miyuki and Ken were off in some part of the building doing a random task for the defenders. It was the first time the two had seen each other since that morning. Both were glad to see the other all right.  
  
In the cafeteria, the three female officers continued their conversation.  
  
"I hope this doesn't drag to the point where we start running out of supplies."  
  
"Well, the Americans keep flying in things we need so that shouldn't be a problem, Yoriko."  
  
"But Natsumi, what if the terrorists start paying more attention to the helicopters? If they do, and the pilots won't risk flying in to the fire, we're on our own."  
  
Aoi cut in. "Well, Arleigh said that a Marine ground convoy with tanks is getting ready to move in tomorrow morning. If they succeed, we should have a land route out of the Ward. Then supplies can be trucked in. With heavier ground forces, we'll probably be able to force the terrorists and rouge troops out easier, since we only have light troops right now."  
  
Natsumi leaned back in her chair, propping it against the wall for stability. "If the enemy figures that out before tomorrow, we're in big trouble. They could throw everything that they have at this place to cut it off and destroy it. Then the only group, us, within the city mounting resistance will cease to be. Not a nice thought, but true."  
  
"Yes, that is true. But we've dealt with the attacks so far pretty well, even with the tanks."  
  
"Aoi, they weren't really making a concerted effort to use the armor up to now. If they had, we'd probably all be dead. The APCs last time only kept the snipers on the roof down. The tanks and APCs haven't really been used to their full capability yet. Hopefully the American attack helicopters and naval guns can hold them back if they decide to use them as they were designed, I.E. to kill."  
  
Yoriko visibly shuddered at that. "Why do that have to do this? It's insane. I don't want to die."  
  
"None of us are going to die. I'll make sure of that. Arleigh will make sure of that. Every soldier here will make sure all of us Japanese citizens survive." Aoi tried to comfort her friend. "It's going to take a lot of work, but we'll all make it through this."  
  
"I hope you're right, Aoi, I hope you're right." Natsumi downed the last of her coffee just as Miyuki and Ken arrived. "Where were you two?"  
  
"The Marine Captain had us distribute copies of marked maps to the rest of the officers so they know where the three Listening Posts are going to be," responded Ken, walking past the table to get some food and drink.  
  
"The three what?" questioned Yoriko.  
  
Miyuki pursed her lips before replying. "They're a small group of soldiers who deploy away from the main group to, I guess, listen and watch for enemy soldiers trying to move up on the main group. Arleigh has three groups out along the three main routes to the station. He hopes that they'll give good warning and possibly even slow down any enemy groups moving up to attack the station."  
  
Natsumi raised an eyebrow. "Can't they just do that from the air?"  
  
"Sort of, but according to Captain Surai there are certain circumstances which prevent that from happening right now." Miyuki accepted a small sandwich from Ken as he returned. "Thanks."  
  
"It's going to be very interesting to see what happens tonight." Ken gulped down some water and took a bite out of his sandwich. "We're at a major disadvantage during the night since we're static and the enemy is mobile. Things could get ugly."  
  
"Nakajima's right," added Miyuki. "We still have civilians trickling in and we have to keep them safe."  
  
"To Protect and Serve. Well, today that's taken on a whole new meaning." Natsumi grinned and got up to get more coffee.  
  
The group continued talking for a few minutes when Arleigh walked in, decked from head to toe in supplies for the LP he was heading out too. Ken stopped in mid-sentence when he saw the American. "What the hell is all that, Rivera?" The rest of the officers turned to look. Everyone but Miyuki was stunned, since she knew already.  
  
"Well, I guess Surai didn't tell you, Nakajima, but I'm taking out Listening Post Three." He glanced at his feet and leaned forward slightly to offset the extremely heavy load on his back. "Natsumi, can I speak with you for a second? Privately?"  
  
The young Bokuto officer looked at her friend inquisitively. "Um, sure." She followed him out into the hallway. "What's going on?"  
  
He sighed before answering. "Well, I just wanted to talk. Are you all right? I mean, since earlier this afternoon?"  
  
"Yes, I'm dealing with it. I've had things to do to get my mind off of it. My question is, are YOU all right? You're going out there?"  
  
"Uh, yeah."  
  
"But, that's crazy!" Natsumi was beginning to get distraught. She felt sorry for the soldiers going out when Miyuki had explained the Listening Posts, but knowing Arleigh was going out made it far worse.  
  
Arleigh rapped his fingers against the stock of his rifle before proceeding. "I know. But it has to be done. We need people out there tonight waiting for the enemy and to throw them off balance when their attacks come."  
  
"Sure, I agree! But why you!?"  
  
"At the risk of sounding full of myself, Natsumi, because I'm the best. This is what I, as a special ops soldier, as an Army Ranger, and as a Long-Range-Surveillance soldier, am trained to do. These other guys here aren't. So someone has to guide them. I could just have my Delta guys do everything, but I'm not that way. I like to lead from the front, because that is the best way to win. I'm doing this to help ensure that everyone here right now will live to see the end of all this crap." His thought process ceased to function in the moments preceding his next words. "I'm doing this to protect you. Natsumi, I couldn't bring myself to just say it earlier, but, damnit, I love you." As best he could, with the amazing large amount of gear on him, Arleigh wrapped his arms around Natsumi and kissed her.  
  
Breaking away, he pressed on, not letting her respond. "I don't want to see anything bad happen to you. Ever. And, so help me God, I'm not going to let anything happen to you tonight. If that means going out, far away from help, and smiting the enemy attacks before they have a chance to get to the station, so be it. That's a risk I'm willing to take." It was only then that Arleigh realized what he had just done. 'Oh, shit,' was the first thought that came to his mind. 'Um, wow... Now that was pretty stupid. Um... Arleigh... It would be best if you ran like hell right now. Like, as in, before you say one more stupid thing.' And then thought ceased to exist once more.  
  
"Natsumi, I love you. I've wanted to say those three words to you for the longest time, but I never had the chance. Now I've said them and there's a strong possibility that I may not make it through the night, but at least I'll know that you know how I feel." It was time to go, and it pained him to leave, but he had a job to do. "Stay strong, Natsumi." With that, he turned and headed upstairs to his waiting troops.  
  
A stunned Natsumi Tsujimoto was left standing there in the hallway. She hadn't even had the chance to say that she loved him. At Arleigh's retreating form going up the stairs, she whispered, "I love you, too."  
  
  
  
  
Outside the main entrance to the station, the seven men of Listening Post Three stood. Arleigh made a quick check of his weapons before looking around the group. "Well, this is it, guys. Once we pass that gate we're on our own, for the most part. No mama, no papa. Just the seven of us." He sighed deeply. "Y'all ready to do this?"  
  
Six heads nodded in silent confirmation.  
  
"All right, let's move out."  
  
Three Marines, two Army grunts, and two Delta Force operators slipped out the main gate, past the troops standing guard, past the sandbag barriers, past the stationary HMMWVs with their turret guns pointing out towards Indian country, where the enemy roamed. There were no cheers, no whoops of encouragement, no claps, just the sounds of seven pairs of boots clattering against the pavement as they moved towards their objective. Everyone who could watched from the station as the soldiers moved out of sight and down the road.  
  
"Ryker, you and Miller cover our right flank. Johnson and Chavez, you've got left flank. Adams, rear-guard. Antonelli, you and me have point. Watch every window, every door, and every shadow very carefully. They could be anywhere. I don't want to buy the farm before we even get to the LP."  
  
As silently as seven soldiers with over a hundred pounds of gear each could move, they made their way down the avenue, their weapons at the ready, waiting to defend against ambush. Within fifteen minutes, they were halfway there. Using standard urban combat-patrol tactics, they moved from cover to cover. The road from the station ended in an inverted-Y intersection. They were on the left prong. The right prong moved back towards the station, but stopped short. That avenue of attack wasn't a worry to Arleigh as much, since the only way to get to the prongs was by way of passing his LP. The troops picked up the pace, wanting to make it to the LP before twilight, or false dusk, set it. About two kilometers from the station, the buildings to the right completely ended, opening up into wide fields that were the future sight of an office complex near the canal. Nothing was up at the current moment. The land had not even been graded, so the ground was rough with small knolls dotting the massive field, surprisingly existing in the center of the heavily populated Ward. It had been government property for years, the former site of a World War II arms factory dismantled by American forces after the war.  
  
To the left, the buildings thinned out, with gaps now between them as opposed to being pancaked against each other. Arleigh selected a four- story shop. On one side was a small alleyway and on the other side was a wide, empty parking lot that would be filled on most days. Arleigh, Ryker, and Chavez left the other troops out front for security while they cleared the building. No one was there. The shop was closed for the day, as it was Sunday.  
  
At this point, the road curved, and the building was at the apex of the curve. From the fourth floor, the soldiers would be able to see down the road all the way to its end, another two kilometers away. After clearing the building, the troops set to work. They barricaded the rear entrance in a way that would prevent anyone from coming in, but also allow them to quickly remove it if they had to escape. Next, Lance Corporal Javier Chavez and Private, First Class Mark Miller began setting up a laser- designator they had carried to the LP. With this, the troops could laze targets for the U.S. Navy destroyers floating off the coast to guide in their 125mm ER-Guided-Munition rounds. Using his map and the designator, Arleigh began pre-plotting coordinates for the ships' gunners. With the coordinates locked in, the crew could automatically fire the round to the right spot instead of blindly firing it and letting the guidance package take over.  
  
Darkness set in over the Sumida Ward and the troops of LP Three who had night-vision-goggles donned them, turning the dark evening into twelve noon.  
  
Arleigh took the radio handset from Ryker. They were up on the third floor looking out the windows. It was about 7 o'clock. "Custer's Commandos reporting in. Delta Five-One reports no movement around the LP at this time. We're fully settled in for the night. Over."  
  
"Five-One, Alpha Six. Roger that. You've got the radio freaks (slang for "frequency") for artillery and air support. But it gets too much and you need us, you call us, all right? Over."  
  
"Affirmative, Six. Remember, we're a lot farther out than I originally told you. I'm not sure in the message got to you before we left, but I reviewed my options and I decided to push the LP out several hundred meters farther to better cover. Over."  
  
"Delta, yeah, I heard. Can't do anything about it now. You're already there. What's your new positon? Over." After Arleigh updated the Marine officer, the conversation continued. "By the way, I like the Custer's Commandos bit. You guys think that's what you are? Over."  
  
"Yeah, pretty much, Captain. If there's nothing else, I'm signing off. Next SITREP (situation-report) at 2130 Hours (9:30 PM). Delta Five- One and Custer's Listening-Post, Out." Arleigh handed the commo set back to Ryker and made his way downstairs. Chavez and Antonelli were on the fourth floor. Spec-Four Antonelli manned an FN M240 medium machine gun, while Chavez sported a standard M-16A2 rifle. This would be the group's main firepower against infantry. On the third floor would be Ryker and Miller, both with rifles. No one manned the second floor. Rivera, Adams, and Johnson would occupy the first floor. Johnson manned an FN M249 light machine gun, the group's second primary weapon. Rivera and Adams both had M4A1 compact assault rifles, and Adams carried the team's other radio. These three would actually be working out in the street, using a few cars as cover, but for now they were inside.  
  
"All right, I've put everyone on 50% alert. That means the three of us are off for two and a half hours. So, eat, catch a few winks, whatever. In two and a half, the other four guys will be off and we'll pick up their stations for two and a half hours. Then it's 100% alert until seven tomorrow morning, when we'll fall back to the station. I don't know about y'all, but I'm starving."  
  
The Lieutenant stood from his crouched position by the front display windows, which the team had removed. Inside it was completely dark, so they had to use touch to move around, not wanting to waste the batteries in their goggles. In back they had found a sink in a bathroom, so Arleigh went back, ripped open an MRE from his ruck, and filled the chemical containers with water.  
  
Ten minutes later, the chemical reaction finished and Arleigh had a piping hot meal of beef teriyaki. Sitting down next to Adams, he quipped, "This stuff is pretty good. Look at this, there's a bag of Fritos in here, hot apple-cider mix, hot chocolate mix, a mini Tabasco sauce bottle. Great stuff. At least it's not one of old MREs, like that 'escalloped potatoes with ham' shit they gave me during the Malden conflict. I figured if I could convince the Russians to eat it, they'd die and the war would come to a speedy end. 'Russian Offensive Thwarted by Shitty American Food Ration.' Yeah, that'd be the day." The soldiers talked and joked while they downed their meals, and then each took the opportunity to sleep, a luxury they would not get for a while.  
  
Arleigh used his ruck as a substitute for a pillow and tried to fall asleep. The small office was quite dark, with no moonlight reaching it. Lying there, he began thinking about his short speech to Natsumi before leaving for the LP. 'Well, that was pretty stupid. You couldn't have just let it at what you let slip out earlier, could you? Noooooooo... You had to go and tell her flat out right before you go get yourself killed. Boy, you're smart. I wonder how you ever friggin' made it through Malden without dying. You know what? You're going to get killed tonight and you are going to break her friggin' heart. Good job, moron, good job. Hey, maybe you should marry her first next time before pulling another stunt like this. Oh, wait, that's right. There won't be another next time. Idiot.'  
  
Arleigh was face down in his rucksack at this point having a literal war between the right and left sides of his brain. Logic v.s. emotion. An epic battle.  
  
'Oh, so there was supposed to be no communication of feelings at all? What, like when you consoled her and let 'it' slip out, she knew exactly what it meant? It wasn't just a tactic to make her feel better? You did what you had to do. Don't try and deny it. And you're not going to die here tonight. You made it through Malden, and you didn't have someone to come back to then. Now you do, which means you have even more at stake. You're not going down without a fight. Remember, these soldiers here at your side are depending on you. So are the soldiers and people held up back at the station, and the person depending on you the most, is that extremely beautiful young woman back there who loves you. There is no time for logic right now.'  
  
'No time for logic? What the hell does that mean? And what's with the 'who loves you' thing? What information are you privy too that I'm not? Look, you screwed up. Deal with it. Not saying that you shouldn't tell her, but, damnit, it could've come at a better time. You've got way more important shit to think about right now, like, for example, that little battle going on right now within the Ward? As in, the one getting people killed? The one you need to freakin' stop? Besides, after this is all over you'll never see her again. Deltas get reassigned far, far away from their last area of operations. You'll probably get shipped to South America to hit the drug cartels. Idiot.'  
  
'It's better that she knows than not know. You can't just bottle up your feelings for her forever. You will never meet another girl like her. Ever. She's one of a kind. Take your chances. She deserves to know. You've told you already. If you hadn't told her, think of how it would have eventually affected you.' His mind continued arguing with itself, with no end in site.  
  
Arleigh pushed himself up off of the floor. Looking at his watch as he rubbed his eyes, he realized that the debate in his mind had lasted for well over an hour. There were now only about 45 minutes left until his watch started. "Shit. Might as well make the most of that. Not going to get any for a while." He promptly returned to his sleeping position and drifted off to sleep within a minute.  
  
  
  
Back at the station, things were mostly quiet. There were some problems, though. Apparently the Japanese government had decided to reverse its allowance of American helicopters and naval artillery. Several officials did not want either forms of support being used during the night for fear of the soldiers not being able to positively identify targets as civilian or terrorist before engaging them in the dark. The LPs were informed of the change in plans. They were now completely on their own. They would either have to fall back to the station then to increase their odds of surviving the night, or wait until the American ground convoy arrived the next day. American soldiers were livid. Bokuto and the three Listening Posts were in for an interesting night.  
  
  
  
At his headquarters, Colonel Nakatani was reading the newspaper from that morning. He was thinking about what would be in the papers the following morning about the small insurrection. "Most interesting, indeed."  
  
Lieutenant Tanaka entered the room to give his commander an update on the situation. "Colonel, 2nd Battalion of CR-1 reports that most of the objective buildings have been taken, including the television and radio station near the Yokojokken. The objectives were taken without any problems. It appears as though American aircraft are now gone from the air over the Ward. No units, ours or insurgent, report any activity over them." The station he referred to was an old station set to be dismantled within the next week. However, the insurrection was timed to make use of the buildings while they were still operational. Parts of the updated B-1 Assault plan were hidden there. It was only a matter of time before the hidden parts were discovered by the terrorists scouring for them. Also, the radio and television transmitters were too be put to use.  
  
"Also, 1st Battalion reports that it is moving towards the Bokuto Police Station. It is picking up members of the Japanese Martyrs Brigade (the terrorist group) as they move forward. Reports indicate the primary force now consists 800 of our soldiers with tanks and APCs and 500 of the Martyrs with their technicals. They have turned over all remaining pieces of our equipment. We lost several armored units to their misuse of them. Continuing, the Battalion has lead elements out in front clearing the path for the main group. They are still waiting for some of their heavy equipment to be repaired from damage sustained in the insurgent's attack. The commander believes he will be completely ready in another hour to hour and a half to attack. Third Battalion has moved into position as you asked. They are awaiting further orders."  
  
Nakatani pondered the situation for a moment, his eyes closed. "Hmm. The insurgents are using civilians as cover for their movements, though I do not approve. So I understand that aircraft were hesitant before to engage them. However, the complete lack of aircraft confuses me. I am glad that no air can get in our way now, however, I do not understand the lack. It is possible that they have been ordered off due to night and the government's wishes. We must use this to our advantage. Our victory must be swift. We cannot give them a chance to realize their mistake and correct it. There will be no second chances." He opened his eyes and glanced out the window at the moon. "I have changed my mind. I want Third Battalion to coordinate with the Martyrs. The Martyrs are still criminals, but they are the enemy of my enemy, which makes them my friend. Try to arrange that the lead elements of the two battalions hold large quantities of the Martyrs. I do want their transportation to be my responsibility for any time longer than necessary once they have the entire plan. I have a duty to keep my men alive. Let the insurgents do most of the work and only use our services when absolutely necessary. Also, hold off on the attack for two hours. I want both battalions to be 100% functional and ready. Remember that we only get one chance at this attack before they realize that revoking air cover was a mistake. Very good, Kenji. Go to the operations room. I will be there momentarily to oversee the battle."  
  
After the Lieutenant left, Nakatani removed a picture of his family from his breast pocket. "I do this for you, dear ones." Nakatani returned the picture and straightened his jacket. He donned his pistol belt and placed his hat atop his head. Two minutes later, at he was in his operations room. The Brigade officers were gathered around a map table, updating position markers of all their forces.  
  
"Gentlemen," the Colonel announced, "Let the battle begin. Death to our enemies."  
  
The Japanese Ground Self-Defense Force soldiers cheered. This would be the first time Japanese troops would engage in offensive military operations since World War II. It was bitterly ironic that it would be against the same enemy that had fought against so long ago in the world's most savage and violent armed conflict ever.  
  
  
  
  
  
Natsumi was still awake. She rolled over to look at the clock on the wall across from her bunk in the station's quarters. It read 9:38 P.M. "Damn. It's been around twelve hours since all this started."  
  
Down below her, Miyuki was asleep. Across from her in the other bunk system was Aoi and Yoriko. Ken, the Chief, and several other officers were down the tiny hallway. Captain Surai had suggested that they all get as much sleep as possible while they could get it. No attacks had come recently, but with the revoking of air and artillery support, it was imperative that well-rested people man the defenses. Some of the American soldiers were taking their chances and getting sleep on the floors around the station. Each person kept their weapon nearby, so that when the attacks came, they could immediately arm themselves and move to a position to fight.  
  
It was inherently obvious to Natsumi that she wasn't going to get any sleep, no matter how hard she tried. So she crawled out of the small sleeping space, grabbed her Type-89 rifle, and silently left the quarters, trying not to disturb any of her sleeping compatriots. She found an out-of- the way room down the main corridor. There was power still in this section, thanks to the generators. Using a thin rag she had picked up along the way, she began cleaning the rifle. The brunette officer stripped the rifle down into its major parts and wiped them down. It would not be very good if the weapon failed during a firefight.  
  
While she worked, she thought about what Arleigh had said to her, a few short hours before. 'Well, he loves me. I think. I hope that just wasn't adrenaline or fear talking. If it was, well, damn. But there've been two instances today where he has said it. Once outright and the other he just alluded to it. He's not a dishonest person. So I can't see it as a lie to make me feel better. Can't be. Not him. Not in that way. Crap, why am I thinking about this now? I've got other things to worry about.' She picked up the body of the rifle and began clearing the breech. 'Still, he's one of my friends. I have to worry about him, just like I have to worry for Miyuki's safety, Aoi's safety, Ken's safety, Yoriko's safety, and everyone's safety. Ah, what the hell am I doing. The bolt disassembles the other way around, dummy. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah, that's right. Arleigh. If anything happens to him, I have no idea how I'm going to react. I mean, I understand he has a job to do like me. His job involves risks and dangers, same as mine. But he's someone who, to me, is beyond special. Damnit, he's the man I love. I've only been dreaming about him since I met him. If he gets hurt or dies, well, that's it for Natsumi Tsujimoto's sanity.' Natsumi peered down the barrel of the stripped rifle to see if there was any dirt left in it. 'Miyuki has Ken right here with her. So she knows what's going on with him. But Arleigh is out there. Alone, basically. I don't envy those guys out there.' She sighed heavily. 'Why couldn't this have all happened in a more peaceful time and setting? Like a normal day? I guess a special circumstance triggered a special happening. Oh, well. If I make it through tonight and so does Arleigh, I'm going to tell him right out how I feel. I've never thought myself a coward, but I never brought myself to tell him in almost two years of knowing him. That has to end. I know how he feels, now it's time that he knows how I feel. But...' That's when she remembered something from a week ago. 'But he's in special operations. I'm probably never going to see him again... He said so himself after he rescued us... To hell with that. It'd be better for me if he knew that he never knew. Even if I can't be with him, I want him to know.'  
  
Just like Arleigh two klicks away at LP Three, Natsumi had her own mental debate for a while. Soon, she finished cleaning the Type-89 rifle and had it reassembled. The female officer made her way back to the sleep quarters. Maybe if she tried one more time, she could get some much needed rest that wouldn't be available all too soon.  
  
As she climbed up into her bunk, Miyuki reached out and tapped her on the shin. Natsumi immediately dropped back down and looked at her best friend. She whispered, "What?"  
  
Miyuki propped herself up on her elbow and quietly answered. "I know what you're thinking, Natsumi. You're thinking about Arleigh. Don't worry about him. He can take care of himself. I am fully confident that he'll survive. He's a fighter, just like you. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you two were related. Just focus on what we have to do here tonight and the rest will take care of itself. Now get some sleep. I need a fully functional Home-Run Girl backing me up."  
  
"Miyuki, if you ever call me that again..."  
  
Before Natsumi could finish, the black-haired officer rolled over onto her other side and covered her head with a pillow to forestall a response.  
  
"Damn." Natsumi once again climbed back up, and promptly fell asleep.  
  
  
  
Arleigh awoke with a sudden jolt. He found himself sweating heavily, breathing hard, and shaking. Glancing at his watch, he discovered it was only a couple minutes until he was due to go on watch. The Army officer gathered up his weapon and headed upstairs to Ryker's position. "You all right, L-T? You look like hell."  
  
"Quiet, you." He donned a set of night-vision goggles and began observing the roadway. "Anything happen while I was off-alert?"  
  
"Yeah. But not here." Ryker looked down at his feet and managed to spit out, "They revoked our air and naval gunfire support."  
  
Arleigh quickly removed the goggles and looked up at his fellow Delta. "You're shitting me."  
  
"No, sir. The Japanese don't want us misidentifying targets in the darkness and killing civilians. We've got nothing."  
  
The American punched the wall. "That's friggin' great. Absolutely wonderful. We're screwed. We didn't bring any AT4s because we were under the assumption that we'd have goddamn support! But no! We don't! So we're royally screwed." He thought for a moment. "Give me the radio. I'm going to see what the hell's going on."  
  
"I already called in the next SITREP."  
  
"I don't care. I'm still going to have a little chat." Taking the handset, he dialed in the frequency for the station's TOC. "This is Delta 5-1 hailing Alpha Six. What the hell is going on with our support, Six? Over."  
  
"Five-One, Six. I have no clue. They're pansies. They think civilian casualties are avoidable. Obviously no one has informed them that the jackasses are executing civilians and using them as human shields, already resulting in many deaths. Like this is going to help. Christ, we need that support. You guys don't have any freaking anti-tank rockets. Over."  
  
"Really? I had no idea, Six. Thanks for reminding me how screwed I am. Bloody hell. All right, I'm going up the chain of command with this. This shit needs to be reversed, immediately. Five-One out."  
  
Rivera quickly dialed in another radio freq. "Zama-Six, this is Delta Five- One. Do you copy? Over."  
  
"Five-One, Zama Six. This is General Walker, son. I'm assuming you want to know about your support. Over."  
  
"Damn right, General. Over."  
  
"Listen here, Delta. We're doing everything we can to get the Japanese government let us support you. Even so, if things get so bad that you won't survive without support, I'll personally authorize the use of support over their wishes. I'm not going to let good young soldiers die at the expense of political incompetence. You sit tight, Lieutenant. You'll get your support back, legally or not. Six out."  
  
Returning the handset to its holder, Arleigh sighed. "Well, typical general. Didn't even let me say my piece." He sighed. "Ryker, you're off for a while. Go eat and get some rest with Antonelli, Miller, and Chavez. If the others aren't already awake, get them up here."  
  
"Roger that, sir." Ryker and Miller left the room and headed downstairs. That left Rivera alone on the third floor. He put his goggles back on and continued scanning the road.  
  
As he sat there, he thought about the dream that had so suddenly awoken him just a few minutes before. When the dream ended, he and only five of the six soldiers at the LP were hunkered down along on the reverse slope of a small knoll with Japanese troops advancing on them. They were low on ammo and picking their targets are explosions of tank shells went off around them and small arms fire saturated the air above them. Artillery shells landed, knocking out the tanks, but not before a 120-mm tank shell exploded directly in front of them, showering the troops with debris and removing a large portion of their cover. Helicopters zoomed overhead, lighting up the advancing Japanese with rockets and bursts from their miniguns.  
  
"Well, there's no way that dream can be true. I had friggin' air and artillery support there." He unscrewed the cap to one of his canteens and took a sip of water. "This sucks. This is going to be one hell of a long night. "  
  
  
  
QUESTIONS & COMMENTS: Bravo26Flashpoint@yahoo.com 


	10. Customer Support

The Siege  
  
Chapter 10: Customer Support  
  
By JagdPanther  
  
Arleigh sat with U.S. Marine Corps Lance Corporal Casey Johnson on the third floor of the building LP Three occupied. It was about an hour and a half into their watch. Rivera confirmed this by looking at his watch, which read 11:01 PM.  
  
After a few minutes, Johnson nudged Rivera. "Sir, radio. Sort of a conference call. Command wants to discuss things with you and Captain Surai."  
  
The Lieutenant grumbled a bit and took the radio handset. "Lima-Papa Three here, what's up?"  
  
"Three, this is Command. You're online. Good, we can begin. I'm turning this over to my G-2." General Walker handed things over to U.S. Army, Japanese Command's Intelligence officer, Colonel Jake Kerr.  
  
Kerr cleared his throat. "All right, let's get on with it. The NSA just checked in with satellite reconnaissance of the Sumida Ward. As you may or may not know, satellite KH-11 ran out of fuel many years ago so it can't maneuver to cover targets not under it's current flight-path, but we still can use its imaging processors. It's the only satellite we have up there right now with infrared capabilities. Now, I know Lieutenant Rivera does not have a laptop to view these, but Captain Surai does. I'm currently sending over the recon photos."  
  
Two kilometers away, Captain Surai leaned over Kinoshita's shoulder as the images came in. They showed large concentrations of heat-signatures in several areas. A map of the corresponding area was transposed over the images to assist in identifying exactly where the photo was showing.  
  
"The photos are about thirty to forty minutes old. As near as we can assess, every bridge out of the Ward is blockaded. Large groups guard them, but out of direct sight from across the River. We can't engage them, anyway, thanks to the Japanese government. The heat images also show that groups, including armor, have taken over several buildings throughout the Ward. One of them is the old NHK Radio/Television Broadcast Center. At this point, we're assuming that they are intending to broadcast propaganda or demands over the airwaves. So far nothing has come out yet. Also, there are small groups of blips dispersed all over the Ward. It appears as though these could be civilians hiding. We're not entirely sure.  
  
"Next, they indicate that there are two very, very large groups heading towards the station. Unfortunately, with the ban on overflights the Japanese government has enacted for the night, we can't positively identify who is civilian and who is hostile. However, we can tell that there are at least twenty tanks and twenty-five APCs per group. The first group is moving in along a north-easterly-to-south-western path. Approximately 1,300 to 1,400 separate blips can be made out. The second group is moving south- easterly-to-north-westerly. That group numbers roughly the same. Now, we're currently trying to convince the Japanese government to allow recon flights back over the city to identify the groups in terms of their makeup, civilians or enemies. Unfortunately, they're pretty obstinate about this. It appears that politicians are the same the world over."  
  
"Wow, what a friggin' surprise," quipped Surai over the radio.  
  
Rivera depressed the push-to-talk button on the handset. "You know, some day, politicians are just going to have to learn that when the bullets start flying to sit down, shut up, and let the soldiers do their jobs. I'm sick and tired of this crap."  
  
"Couldn't have said it better myself, Lieutenant." Colonel Kerr continued. "Okay, moving along. How many men comprise your LPs?"  
  
Surai came over the com-net. "Uh, LPs one and Two are six men each and LP Three is seven men. None of them have any anti-armor weapons, since they were all under the impression that they had over-head support from the choppers and naval arty."  
  
"Hmm. That's a problem. We're not sure how long it will take us to convince the Japanese to let us use them again so we advise you to recall the LPs and consolidate everyone back at the police station."  
  
"Uh, negative Command." Rivera shifted position on the floor before continuing. "Sir, with all due respect, no one is going to live to see the sunrise if we don't keep these LPs out. Well, I should call them ambush patrols now since I guess we know that the enemy is massing. Anyway, we have to cut them down before they get to the station. Yeah, we don't have anti-armor weapons with us, but we do have 81-mm mortars. We can use them as holdovers. Now, LPs One and Two are within range of the mortar tubes back at the station, so they're good. I'm going to need naval arty and air cover for my LP. We're outside the fan, given the positioning of the tubes alongside the station. No matter where we place them inside the compound, one LP will always be without mortar cover."  
  
"Well, then what do you plan on doing, Lieutenant?" That was Surai. He didn't see where Arleigh was going with this.  
  
Rivera pulled out a map and turned on his red-lens flashlight to read it. "Okay, across the road from my LP there is an old field, soon to be a construction site. Now, there are some knolls and short hills in the field since the land hasn't been graded yet. There's a canal right behind the field. I'm thinking that I should pull my LP out of its current position once I've initiated the ambush, and use the confusion to cross to the field. Set up on the reverse slope of one of the hills and ambush the force as it moves into position to attack where we had been. After a hit, I can gather my team and we can E&E (escape and evade) back along the canal for about 500 meters, then cut up onto the main road, using the southern fork of the road, and ingress to the station through the office complexes. Going along the canal deals with the armored units for a while. Don't know about the foot-troops. Hopefully they'll know their way around the Sumida Ward and they'll take the northern fork to get to the station. The ambush should slow them down, so hopefully we'll be able to hoof it back to the station before the main attack wave gets there."  
  
"That's goddamn stupid, Rivera."  
  
"Thanks, Captain. I aim to please."  
  
Kerr came back. "Well, it's worth a shot. If you stay in your current position you're guaranteed to get killed. General Walker approves."  
  
"Hoo-ah."  
  
"What about the other two, LPs?" That was the Colonel.  
  
Arleigh thought for a moment. "Negative. If possible, rush a few AT4s out to them in a HMMWV. It's better that we ambush the groups. They'll overrun us in no time if we let them just march right up to the station, full-force. Plus, we need to buy some time for while air and artillery support negotiations continue. We desperately need both. And it'd really be nice if we had that reaction force of Electric Strawberries still at Tokyo Airport. I mean, hell, they've got to allow transports to come in." All U.S. Army division's have official nicknames. Consequently, they also have unofficial derogatory names. For the 25th "Tropic Lightning" Infantry Division, they had the name "Electric Strawberries," given the appearance of the Division's shoulder-patch insignia. "We're probably going to need reinforcements at some point."  
  
"I agree with Rivera."  
  
"Approved."  
  
Surai quickly gave the order back at the station to send out five AT4 anti- tank rockets to each LP. Within a few minutes both LP One and LP Two would have the ability to slow the attackers down dramatically by knocking out a few armored units. "Okay, that takes care of that. Now all we can really do is wait and pray. Colonel, we're counting on you guys to get us that support. If we don't, we're all going to be dead come tomorrow morning."  
  
"I hear you, Captain. We're working as fast as we can. Actually, the provincial governor is arriving shortly. It might be best if one of you talked to him over the radio."  
  
"That's great, Colonel. As soon as he gets there, give him a handset. We need that support."  
  
"Will do, Lieutenant."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
After a few minutes, the conference broke up. Arleigh settled back down and took up watch. Johnson stretched and took a drink of water while Rivera pondered the move across the road. He'd wait and initiate the ambush first. The move across the road was going to be difficult. They'd probably have to use smoke grenades to mask their movement across the road. So Arleigh sat there, and waited for the call from Camp Zama, hopefully connecting him with the provincial governor. He wondered how he'd handle that conversation regarding the air and artillery support he so desperately needed. In a few minutes, the call came.  
  
"Lieutenant Rivera? I am Governor Kurusu. I cannot risk any more Japanese citizens lives by giving you support. In the dark, my military advisors tell me, you cannot accurately tell who is who. I'm sorry, but it cannot be done."  
  
Rivera was prepared now. "Sir, permission to speak freely?"  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
"Sir, it doesn't work that way. Now, there have already been many civilians killed. This is a battle. That cannot be helped, unfortunately. These bastards have executed innocent people for not cooperating. They cut down civilians who attempted to flee when they attacked the police station. Civilians are already dead in numbers, sir. Revoking our support will only increase the numbers. Now, I know you aren't here and can't possibly understand the entire picture because of that. But, as a professional soldier, in my opinion, everyone, Japanese civilians, Japanese police, American soldiers, all will be dead by tomorrow morning if you do not let us have our air and artillery support. It is imperative that we protect ourselves with everything possible. We will do our best to avoid civilian casualties, but this is, again, a battle, and those casualties are inevitable. I wish there was some way I could prove to you just how badly we need this support without endangering the lives of my men, but that isn't possible, either."  
  
"That's correct, Lieutenant. You can't. And until you can, I cannot give you your support back. In the daylight, you will have it back. Until then, during the night, you can't. I'm sorry, but the national government has spoken and there will be no support. You have to hold on."  
  
Arleigh wished he could strangle people through wireless communication devices. Unfortunately, that also was an impossibility. He was just about to respond when Johnson spoke up. "Sir! Tanks! At the end of the road!"  
  
"Well, speak of the devil, Governor. My position is currently being advanced upon by rogue JGSDF troops and tanks." Two Type-90 tanks and several technicals turned the corner and began a slow move down the road, slow enough for the foot soldiers to keep up. There were JGSDF troops and terrorists intermixed. He told Johnson to go get the others. Using his MSG-90A1's powerful scope, Arleigh watched the troops advance. He could not tell if there were any civilians among them. It didn't appear that way. "2000 meters and closing, Governor. My position does not have any anti-armor defenses. We need that naval artillery immediately if we want to survive. I must initiate an ambush. There is no cowering. I have just observed the group with a high-power telescopic-sight on my rifle and I cannot tell for sure if there are any civilians amongst them, but it does not appear that way. I think everyone is armed."  
  
"Lieutenant, I am responsible for the safety of my province's citizens. I cannot just authorize you to destroy the Sumida Ward. Can you tell me with 100% certainty that there are no civilians? If so, maybe I can talk with the Prime Minister and see what I can do."  
  
"Governor! I do not have time for that! No, I cannot tell you with 100% certainty. There is no such thing as 100% certainty in war! You have to get that support authorized now or a lot more people are going to die! If you are responsible for the citizens, then goddamnit, get me my support! Targets 1800 meters and closing fast. I need that support! Governor!" Arleigh told Ryker to immediately laze the lead tank with the designator. He remembered that there was a possibility that Walker would authorize the ships to fire, despite the Japanese government's policy. "Governor! I need an answer! 1700 meters!" He checked his rifle. "Johnson, go tell Chavez and Antonelli to hold their fire until I fire. Go down and tell Adams and Miller the same thing. Ryker, call a fire-mission into the Chaffee. I want them ready to fire their cannons if it comes down to Walker's word."  
  
Just then, LP Two broke in over the net. "We're in contact! Technicals and terrorists! Shit! RPG! RPG! Everyone get down!" The sounds of explosions and gunfire carried over the radio, probably because Morris had a death- grip on the push-to-talk button of the radio handset. "LP Two initiated an ambush on lead elements of a force! Immediately got return fire! JGSDF troops with trucks and .50-Cals returning fire! Need backup!"  
  
Surai came in next. "LP Two, Alpha Six. Mortars inbound on your pre-plot positions. Redirect fire as needed. Immediately commence fallback to the station. Attempt to recover the HMMWV, if feasible."  
  
"Roger that, Alpha Six! Changing to mortar-team frequency now! We're attempting to escape and evade now! LP Two out!"  
  
Arleigh cut in. "Governor, listen to that! We need that support! LP Two is already in heavy contact and I am very close to being in contact. Enemy 1300 meters and closing! Damnit! Authorize fire!"  
  
"You can't fire those mortars! Cease that at once!"  
  
Two klicks away, at Bokuto Station, Surai had had enough. "GOVERNOR! Now you listen to me, you ignorant sonuvabitch! You don't goddamn tell me how to run my battles! If any American soldier here in the Sumida Ward is even the slightest bit injured because you didn't authorize the friggin' support, I am holding you responsible! I will personally hunt you down and kill you! NOW AUTHORIZE THAT SUPPORT!"  
  
Over Surai's voice came the calls from LP One, now also in contact. "Initiated ambush! Heavy incoming fire. We'll hold on for a few more minutes, then we're falling back to the station. Used three AT4s already, scored two kills on APCs and a technical. Massive enemy group approaching farther back."  
  
LP Two came back online. "We're taking casualties! Two wounded! Shit! Another RPG! GET DOWN!"  
  
Then there was silence.  
  
"Governor, I'd authorize that support if I were you," Arleigh calmly stated. "Enemy approaching LP Three. 1000 meters out."  
  
More silence.  
  
"This is LP Two." Morris was whispering. Something was terribly wrong. "Enemies in the building. Clearing with grenades. I think they've killed Myers and Penalla." An explosion. "Argh!!! I've been hit, ah, damn. Shrapnel. Ah, God, it hurts... Medic..." Japanese voices yelling. "Have to... destroy... the radios..." Then static.  
  
Arleigh bowed his head. LP Two had been overrun. In all likelihood, everyone was dead. "Goddamit. Enemies, 450 meters."  
  
Awkward pause in radio traffic.  
  
"Artillery and Air support authorized." Governor Kurusu sat dejectedly down at the console at Camp Zama. Twenty pairs of American eyes in the room shot lasers through him. It would be difficult to exit the Army camp alive.  
  
Before Kurusu had even finished the word 'authorized,' Arleigh threw down the handset and grabbed the one in Ryker's hand. "This is LP Three! Request immediate fire mission! Fire the goddamn cannons!"  
  
The weapons officer aboard the U.S.S. Chaffee already depressed the fire button in the ship's combat center. He had also been waiting intently for the order to fire. "Roger that, ERGM on the way!" The Arleigh Burke-Class AEGIS Guided Missile destroyer U.S.S. Chaffee, DDG-90 shook as its cannon fired a 125-mm shell. The other ship on station, the U.S.S. Farragut, DDG- 99, another Arleigh Burke-Class was firing in support of LP One, which was preparing to fall back to the station aboard their HMMWV. Within a few seconds, the first 125-mm shell landed squarely atop the lead Japanese tank, shredding it with an incredible explosion. The laser-guided artillery shells were specially designed to attack slow-moving targets such as tanks that were lazed by ground units.  
  
But before the first round had even landed, Arleigh called in again. "This is Lima-Papa Three! Request immediate fire mission! Over!"  
  
"Roger, ERGM on the way!"  
  
A second shell ripped the second tank apart, a couple seconds after the first. Arleigh threw down the handset and grabbed his M4A1. On full automatic, he ripped into the soldiers standing out in the open. As soon as his first round left the rifle, Antonelli opened up with the M240 a floor above him. His machine gun sliced into the five technicals driving with the troops, killing their gunners. Now everyone at LP Three was at a window, firing into the group. The attack had so stunned the troops that it was several moments before they could muster return fire. In the opening volley alone, scores of enemy troops fell dead or severely wounded in the street. Finally, they managed a response. Slowly the fire picked up until Antonelli and Chavez were forced to drop to the floor to avoid rounds coming in the windows. Chavez lifted his M-16 up over his head and pulled the trigger with his right thumb, sweeping the gun back and forth over his head, hoping the barrel was aimed somewhere near the enemy below.  
  
Ryker called in a few more artillery rounds, but the lead element of the 1st Battalion, Combat Regiment 1, 2nd Brigade, 1st Army Division, JGSDF, kept on coming. It was roughly one hundred fifty soldiers strong before it was hit. Now only about fifty remained intact and unhurt, but that was still far more than what LP Three had. A base of fire was set up and about thirty troops moved up under it to attack the building.  
  
Arleigh dove to the ground to avoid a burst of fire from a terrorist's AK. He quickly jumped back up and launched a 40-mm grenade at the terrorist, killing him. Then he noticed the enemies moving up. "Ah, hell!" He grabbed the radio. "This is LP Three! We've got enemies attempting to enter the building! We're going to E&E ASAP."  
  
"Roger that, LP Three! LP One has safely returned to the station with no casualties. They set up a few booby-traps in the road as a welcoming gift."  
  
"Okay, Alpha Six! Three moving out!"  
  
Arleigh told Johnson and Ryker to get ready. He yelled upstairs for Antonelli and Chavez to get ready. Downstairs, he found Miller and Adams behind the store's front counter, waiting for enemies to show themselves. One soldier made the mistake of doing that, and both men fired, dropping him like a stone. "Guys, we're getting ready to pull back and E&E. Cover us. Once we get outside, we'll come around front, clear the enemy, and pick you up."  
  
"Yes, sir!" shouted Adams as he fired a suppressive burst from his weapon out the now-shattered front window.  
  
Rivera quickly ascended the stairs to the second floor. Grenades were plopping in the windows where the soldiers had been firing from. The enemy had moved around the back of the building, using the small alleyway. The barricade in back was jerking from pushes and shoves from outside. Arleigh, Ryker, Johnson, Chavez, and Antonelli squeezed into a small room with a window overlooking the parking lot. This was their only way out. Rivera lifted the window slightly and looked out. His night-vision goggles revealed no enemies in the parking lot, but he could certainly hear them out back and in front. Adams and Miller kept up their random bursts of fire to keep the enemy from charging the front door. Grenades sailed in, but harmlessly detonated in front of the counter. The Lieutenant turned around and whispered, "Well, this is just going to be like a really high jump from a chopper." He looked down again. "Here, toss my rucksack down to me when after I jump. I'll kill myself jumping with it on."  
  
Arleigh climbed out the window, and fell two stories to the ground. He performed a Parachute-Landing-Fall (PLF), and thus sustained no injuries to his legs, as was the point of the PLF. Quietly coming up onto a knee, he flicked his rifle onto safe, slung it over his shoulder, and fielded the falling rucksack, which threw him to the ground because of its weight. He quickly got back up and waited for Johnson to fall. He helped the man up. Arleigh whispered, "Okay, grab a grenade. We'll clear behind the building." He told Chavez and Antonelli to clear in front.  
  
The enemy was so intent on coming in through the doors in front and in back, that they never noticed the window on the side of the building. They quickly regretted it, though. Johnson's and Rivera's grenades clinked off of the wall separating the building from another office and came to rest right in the middle of the enemies about to blow the door down with grenades of their own. The fragmentation grenades detonated, throwing shrapnel into everything around it. Then the two grenades the enemy had primed to blow down the door, exploded, killing anyone who wasn't already dead. In front, Chavez tossed a grenade, which took out most of the enemies sitting there. Antonelli swung around the corner and lit up the street with his machine gun, firing from the assault position. Chavez leaned around the corner and picked off some of the remaining JSDF troops who had provided the base of fire for the building assault. Those troops began withdrawing into cover to prevent further casualties.  
  
With everyone down from the 2nd floor, the troops regrouped and called around the corner and into the front where Adams and Miller were. "Guys! It's clear out front! But wait until we smoke the road to come out. Grab your rucksacks!"  
  
The five soldiers outside each threw one smoke grenade at varying distances to cover the entire way across the road and into the field. Adams and Miller burst through the smoke closest to the building and reunited with their fellow soldiers. "Thanks, guys," said Adams.  
  
Arleigh made sure everyone had everything. They had all their rucks, both radios, and the laser designator. "All right, let's move."  
  
They ran as fast as they could with all their gear across the road. Sporadic blind-fire from the soldiers who had been laying down a base of fire for the building assault team crossed through the smoke, but miraculously, no one got hit. The team ran across the field to a small knoll and quickly dove behind it. Arleigh grabbed the radio immediately upon landing. "LP Three has evacuated the primary building without casualty. LP Three is changing call signs. LP Three is now Delta Five- One. We'll ambush the next group of enemies from here and then E&E back to base along the canal."  
  
"Delta, this is Alpha Six. When you're coming in, tell us! We're about to get engaged ourselves. LP One's booby traps just went off. Two satchel charges rigged with radio sensors destroyed a tank moving up to attack us. No word from LP Two. Good luck to you. Six out."  
  
"Okay guys, set up along this ridge. Space evenly. Antonelli, I want you second from the right, and Miller, I want you second from the left. Adams and Chavez fill in the ends. Ryker, stay right here next to me. Guys, pass out your extra ammo to the machine gunners." Arleigh shouldered his M4A1 in the darkness. He pulled his MSG-90A1 off of his back and set-up the bi-pod. Taking aim through a scope with night-vision goggles wasn't easy, but Rivera had plenty of practice. The Delta Operator sighted in a JSDF soldier slowly moving up to flank the building where he thought the Americans were still hiding. Unexpected single rifle shots are almost impossible to locate, and that's just what happened. Squeezing the trigger, Arleigh sent a 7.62mm round through the rogue soldier's left shoulder. The soldier fell dead, and his comrades hit the deck immediately, completely unable to tell where the shot had come from. Arleigh continued firing, cutting down terrorists and soldiers alike.  
  
After the fifth person fell dead, they located the sniper's position from the muzzle flash against the night sky. They began to seek better cover and wait for the main attack force to arrive, which was just rounding the corner at the end of the road.  
  
The six other soldiers sent sporadic bursts of fire across the field, 100 meters to the roadway. Ryker had already set up the designator just above the crest of the small hill and sighted it for where he expected tanks to appear at any moment.  
  
Arleigh stopped firing and picked up the radio. "Delta-Five-One to Command, how long until air support arrives on-station? We can hear tank treads creaking on up the road. Over."  
  
"Soon, Five-One, soon. First AH-6 flight on station in four minutes. First AH-64 flight on station eight minutes. U.S.S. Lassen, DDG-82 on station in three hours. Over." The Lassen was steaming its way across the Pacific at flank speed to reach gunnery range. In three hours, the ship would be 96 kilometers off the coast, just within range of the 125-mm gun loaded with Extended-Range-Guided-Munition rounds.  
  
"Roger, thanks for the update. Five-One out."  
  
Two minutes passed before the lead tank exposed itself. Evidently, the position of the seven soldiers had not been relayed to the tank driver. Ryker, on the second radio, called in an artillery round from the Chaffee. With the same effect as the previous rounds, the shell screamed in and obliterated the tank. However, the burning tank presented a small problem. Ryker couldn't shoot the laser through the flames and the smoke to the APC that was attempting to pass the tank along the sidewalk.  
  
Already the other six men, including Rivera, were firing at troops attempting to assault their position. Antonelli and Johnson were laying down steady streams of machine gun fire. The heavier-duty M240 pounded away, kicking dirt up a meter high wherever it hit. The lighter M249 Johnson was using saturated the areas where he thought troops might be taking cover.  
  
Ryker was just about to gain a target lock on the APC when it opened fire. The troop carrier's 35mm automatic cannon erupted, sending shells lancing at the knoll. At first the rounds all missed high, but they slowly started descending. Ryker dove for cover as a shell whizzed by his head. Everyone pulled back below the crest of the knoll as rounds began impacting on the ground. Arleigh dove for the radio and called in a plea for help. "This is 5-1! I need immediate air support! An APC has us pinned down and we can't laze it!"  
  
"Delta Five-One, Comet Four-Three and Four-Four. No sweat, keep your heads down. We'll light up the area with rockets and minigun."  
  
'What a sight for sore eyes', thought Rivera. The two AH-6 Little Birds swooped in and opened up on the column of troops. White-tailed Rockets and blood-red minigun rounds with tracers slashed at the enemy below on the road. However, just before the Hydra rocket pierced the APCs turret, a single 35mm shell from the APC exploded the laser designator on the knoll. Plastic and glass showered down on Ryker and Rivera as they covered their heads. Then they were met with the sound of the APC detonating on the road. The Little Birds made another pass. More horrendous explosions marked the end of several technicals and APCs.  
  
Quickly, the troops got back up to the crest and resumed fire. They kept it up for two more minutes until the AH-64-Ds came on station. "Delta Five- One this is Archer Lead. We spot armor moving down the road. You want those targets on priority?"  
  
"Roger that, Archer! Any and all vehicles are top priority!"  
  
"Affirmative, Delta."  
  
The two Longbow Apache gunships flew over the knoll, firing rockets into the soldiers moving down the road. Then they swung around stopped to hover behind the column. Their Hellfire missiles squashed Type-90 tanks like bugs. After both helicopters had rapidly fired off three Hellfire's each, they began receiving heavy small arms fire which forced them to begin moving again. Any JSDF soldier and terrorist that could, forgot about Arleigh and the pinned down soldiers and fired at the higher-priority target, being the Apaches.  
  
Seeing this lapse in attentiveness, Arleigh dropped his M4A1 and resumed fire with his sniper rifle in an attempt to conserve the M4A1's ammo. Japanese troops and terrorists fell to Arleigh's highly accurate fire. The Apaches continued to make runs with their 30mm chain-guns, despite the heavy small arms fire they were receiving. The more troops that tried to duck and cover from the Apaches, the more ran into Arleigh's sights.  
  
Ryker was the only member of the team not firing, as he communicating over the radio. "This is Delta Five-One X-ray! We lost our laser designator! We can't laze targets anymore! Those tanks are going to be all over us if the Apaches can't keep them off! Over!"  
  
"Five-One X-ray, Command. Do your best calling in rounds from the Chaffee based on coordinates. Sorry. Over."  
  
"Command, Five-One X-ray. That's too damn slow! We'll never survive with just one gun firing! Delta out!" Ryker ducked as an RPG sailed over the team's position. "Shit!" He scrambled over to Rivera on his hands and knees. "Sir! We have to get the hell out of here! We need to fall back right now!"  
  
"I know! I know!" Rivera slapped in another magazine for his MSG-90A1. He fast-crawled back up to the crest of the hill and immediately sighted in on the RPG gunner and put a 7.62mm round through the man's head. "Team! Prepare to fall back to the station! Grab your gear! Set your claymores up on this side of the slope! When we pull back to the canal front, blow the claymores and run like hell! Don't stop running until I tell you to, goddamnit!"  
  
Over the next minute, the soldiers took turns setting up the one claymore they each carried. The small anti-personnel mines were extremely powerful. The entire system was covered in a thick plastic. Curved a bit, the front of the mine held 200 steel ball bearings. Right behind them was a slab of C4 plastic explosives. The curve was bowed out towards the target, and thus when detonated, spewed the bearings away from the firer. The mine did have a slight back-blast so it was best to give the mine and 8-10 meter clearance before detonating.  
  
Rivera got confirmation from everyone that they were ready to move. The Lieutenant rose to one knee and popped off 15 rounds from his M4A1 before tossing a smoke grenade. Ryker and Miller followed suit. Arleigh shouted, "Okay! Let's move it! Go, damnit!"  
  
As the American officer spun and started running down the slope of the hill to the base of the next small hill, he was thrown back and too the ground. The flashlight hanging from the right strap of his LBE shattered as he fell. Private, First Class Mark Miller, just to his commanding officer's right side, immediately noticed the source of the bullet and opened up. Only after PFC Miller had fired an entire magazine and was beginning to reload did he notice that the bullet that had forced Arleigh down had come from behind the position they were vacating. The gunfire was coming from across the canal, not in front of the knoll and on the road.  
  
"Hey! There're enemies behind us! Hey!" Miller went to the ground next to Arleigh, who was clutching his shoulder.  
  
"Ah, damnit, that's gonna be a nice, huge bruise come tomorrow morning!" Arleigh worked his shoulder back and forth a bit before grabbing his rifle. "Thank you God for letting the guy who invented flashlights be born." He popped off a few rounds across the canal.  
  
Already Adams, Antonelli, and Chavez had begun firing across the canal. It appeared as though a group of terrorists had gotten across to the other side with a technical, probably across the bridge several klicks back up the road. The site of tracers coming from behind the team reminded Rivera, Miller, and Johnson that there were still enemies on the road to the front of their old position. Ryker immediately radioed in the team's predicament.  
  
"Damnit! Our E&E route is cut off! Command! Team Delta Five-One cannot egress from the field! We're pinned down!" Sergeant, First Class Chris Ryker glanced to his left and saw that even more enemies were now coming from the front-left of the field, as he was oriented, facing the canal. Now the team had enemies and three sides. "We're surrounded! Need help! Over!"  
  
"Five-One, hold on! More air-support on the way! Just hang on, son!"  
  
"Goddamnit, we can't! We need support now! And one gun from a single destroyer isn't going to cut it!"  
  
Miller stopped firing to give the handset from the team's second radio to Rivera. "Here, sir! I don't know who the hell it is!" Quickly forking it over, he resumed firing short, controlled bursts to conserve ammunition. He was down to ten magazines from his original twenty-two.  
  
"Delta Five-One to whoever the hell this is! I'm in the middle of a friggin' battle! Who the hell are you and what do you want? Over!"  
  
"Delta Five-One, this is the U.S.S. Chancellorsville, CG-62." The Ticonderoga-Class Aegis Guided Missile Cruiser "Chancy," as her name was often shorted to, had two 125mm cannons, as opposed to the single cannons aboard the Chaffee, the Farragut, and the Lassen. "We overheard your calls and we're on station now to support you. Request coordinates for artillery strikes. Over." The Chancy was based out of Yokosuka, but was out on training exercises with a sister ship, the U.S.S. Cowpens, CG-63. Now she was floating out in Tokyo Bay, her bow and stern 5-inch cannons poised to strike.  
  
Rivera fired some more rounds across the river before pulling his map from inside breast pocket. He quickly scribbled across the map with a grease pencil while the fighting continued. There were no choppers on station now. The only waiting reaction forces of the two Little Birds and two Apaches had been spent. Now there were on their own. Arleigh marked his own position as best he could with a grease pencil. Making a judgement call on which group of soldiers, the ones closing from the road, across the canal, or moving along the rear of the field, was most threatening, he grabbed the handset and yelled in, "Chancy, Delta Five-One. I need an immediate strike on coordinates Echo-Lima 6-7-3-9-0-1! Fire for effect! Over!"  
  
"Affirmative, Five-One. Keep your heads down. ERGMs on the way. Over."  
  
The artillery shells screamed in over the group's position and impacted along the road as soldiers moved up to mount an assault. Arleigh corrected the Chancy's gunners by calling in shifts in the targeting, such as 20 meters right, 10 meters down. Ryker was calling in single shots from the Chaffee.  
  
For the first time, Arleigh realized that the position the team now held was both good and bad. He took a fast look around him in a complete circle. The still held the slope that had set up on earlier. That offered protection from direct fire from the road, but was vulnerable from the rear, towards the canal, and to the right, towards the back of the field where another enemy force was attacking. Adams, Antonelli, and Chavez were on a slope up to the crest of the next hill. Ryker and Miller, in a small depression along the crest, faced towards the third force. Then Arleigh realized just how close the two hills and their crests were. All it was, was uneven ground. He could spit and hit Chavez's feet. He was kicking Miller's boots. The team was extremely cramped along the knoll, two facing forward, three back, and two to the right-rear. Plus, the two slopes the team held formed a funnel towards the center. If any enemy soldier got close enough to toss a grenade, it would just slide down into the middle of the pack, probably killing every team member.  
  
Adams turned around to help Rivera and Johnson deal with the enemies along the road to their immediate front. Naval artillery shells continued to impact around the team's position, thanks to Arleigh's corrections. Everyone was running low on ammo, though. They wouldn't be able to take much more of this.  
  
Rivera shifted frequencies to call in the status of the team. "Delta Five-One to Command. Enemy forces repeatedly assaulting us with small arms and RPGs. No armored units have attacked since the Apaches left. The road must be pretty clogged with burning hulks. Probably can't get through to us. No more time to talk. Five-One out."  
  
Slapping another magazine home into his MSG-90A1, Arleigh noted that he was down to four 20-round magazines for the sniper rifle. His single shots were deadly, but they wouldn't last forever. He planned to save two magazines for later, and quickly returned to using his M4A1, down to 15 magazines. 'Well, I always have my pistol. Of course, if they get that close then we're all dead, anyway.'  
  
  
  
  
  
At a secure section of Tokyo Airport, things were in a frenzy. The aircrews of the 160th Special-Operations-Aviation-Regiment heard everything from the start. They were furious over their orders to stand down because the Japanese government didn't want them 'hurting civilians.' Damn with them, they thought. Their brothers-in-arms were getting shot at out there.  
  
Mechanics worked at a fevered pitch to ready the choppers for action. The group only consisted of 6 AH-6 Little Birds, now only 5 due to the loss of Comet Four-Two, and 6 MH-6 Little Birds. Comet Four-Three and Four- Four were just returning to base to rearm and refuel. The unarmed MH-6 seemed of no use in the battle, but the pilots insisted on going out to evacuate casualties and bring in supplies. If any pilots were crazy enough to fly into the Sumida Ward now, they were the Nightstalkers of the 160th SOAR.  
  
Chief Warrant Officers Hank Goodman and Barry Polley ran as fast as they could out to their waiting MH-6 Little Bird, call-sign Halo One-One. The AH-6s were taking too long to get ready, loading the miniguns and rocket pods, the CWOs had thought. So they were going out on their own. Goodman would fly and Polley would heft an FN M240 machine gun, firing it out the side of the unarmed MH-6 chopper. They took a box of fragmentation grenades with them. Quickly, they lifted off and headed towards the Ward.  
  
Polley loaded in a fresh belt of ammo and pulled back on the charging handle. "Let's kick some ass, Hank."  
  
"You got it, Barry." Chief Goodman accelerated the Little Bird to its top speed. They weren't going to let down the troops now. They were presented with two options. Go to Bokuto Station and help out the besieged defenders there, or head to Delta Five-One's position. The two decided to head for the latter. Several hundred Army and Marine combat soldiers in a fortified building had a hell of a lot better chance than seven men in a field surrounded by hordes of enemy soldiers. "This is Halo One-One hailing Delta Five-One. Do you read? Over."  
  
The first calls weren't responded too. After a fourth try, Rivera's voice filtered back through the deafening sound of gunfire and explosions. "Delta Five-One reads you Lima-Charlie, Halo! Over." In the U.S. Military, Lima-Charlie was a way of saying 'loud and clear.'  
  
"Five-One, we are inbound from your Sierra-Echo (south-east). Will be on your station in approximately five minutes. Over."  
  
Arleigh cast a confused glance at the handset before replying. "Uh, say again One-One. It sounds like you're saying you're inbound. Over."  
  
"That's affirmative, Five-One. Keep your heads low. We'll be starting gun runs as soon as we get there. Over."  
  
"Halo One-One, are you out of your goddamn minds? You're driving an unarmed chopper! Gun-runs with what? Spitballs! Over."  
  
"Negative, Five-One. Picked up a machine gun and grenades. Over."  
  
"You're an idiot, Chief. But we can use all the help we can get. I'm marking our position with an infrared strobe. Over."  
  
"Acknowledged Five-One. We'll radio in when we're over the area. Halo out." Goodman reached between the seats of the MH-6 and grabbed his Heckler & Koch MP5-PDW submachine gun. The personal-defense-weapon wouldn't be much, but at least he could be of assistance during the fight. He slipped the shoulder strap over his helmeted head and down around his waist so he wouldn't lose the gun if he had to make any sudden maneuvers over the battle field. "I'm going to fly as close to parallel as possible to the enemy forces, Barry, so keep that pig (slang for a machine gun) pointed directly out the side.  
  
  
  
Arleigh replaced the handset and fired at a JSDF soldier moving into position with a light machine gun. The soldier ducked below cover and Arleigh cursed himself for not hitting the target. Disregarding that, he low-crawled over to his rucksack a few feet away and produced a small cylindrical item with a curved glass plate halfway around the tube. He set it next to himself and continued popping shots off over the crest. Noticing a small group attempting to flank the two soldiers guarding the rear of the position, Rivera primed the M203 grenade launcher and fired off a round. The 40mm shell impacted in-between the lead soldier and the slack man. They were immediately killed by the initial blast, and the fragments severely wounded their two comrades. Arleigh reloaded the launcher. He had two launched-grenades left.  
  
The fire died down and picked up again quickly as the next few minutes passed. Goodman radioed back in. "We're thirty seconds out, Delta. We can see the firefight in progress."  
  
"Roger that, Halo! I'm marking with the strobe now!" Arleigh pulled the arming pin from the strobe and tossed it into the middle of the position. Immediately the device began emitting an invisible and continuous flash from the glass window.  
  
Up above in the Little Bird, Goodman and Polley looked down through their, night vision goggles, special-made for 160th SOAR pilots. "Jesus, will you look at that," remarked Polley. The aircraft, completely blacked-out with no lights on anywhere, was now hovering several hundred meters away from the field. "There's people all over the damn place."  
  
"More targets equals more work. That makes me mad." Goodman goosed the cyclic forward and the MH-6 began a slow advance on the field. "I'm going to make an east-to-west run along that road just over the building roofs. Got it?"  
  
"Yeah, just hurry up and do it. I've got an itchy trigger-finger."  
  
"I hear that." Goodman activated the radio. "Delta Five-One, we're making our first run along the road in front of your position."  
  
"Roger that, One-One. Hoo-ah!"  
  
The Little Bird circled around the field and sped up along the canal. About a kilometer away, the chopped banked hard to the left and then spun around to go back along the road. Skimming just above the tops of the buildings, Goodman negotiated the flight back to the field. Polley, secured to the aircraft by a makeshift harness, leaned out the starboard side door pouring .30 calibre machine gun fire down onto the enemy soldiers moving up the road to attack. The enemies dove for cover and attempted to return fire at the chopper, but they couldn't get a clean fix on the pitch- black chopper except for the muzzle flash of the machine gun.  
  
Polley reached back into the chopper to the center console, where the open box of fragmentation grenades sat. He grabbed one, pulled the pin, and chucked it out the door. Down below and behind the chopper, the grenade exploded in front of a technical, shredding its front left tire. The gunner in the rear of the technical opened fire with the ChiCom .51 Calibre machine gun, but to no avail. Halo One-One was already out of sight around a bend in the road, still firing on the enemy.  
  
Goodman pulled the chopper up and away from the road as it reached the field. He juked the aircraft to avoid return fire. The Little Bird came into a short holding pattern several hundred meters away in the air as Polley reached behind the cockpit seats to grab another 200-round belt-box for the machine gun from the rear compartment. "Okay, I'm good for another run."  
  
"Roger that, Barry. Next run east-to-west along the canal front, then over the field and back up the road, west-to-east."  
  
"Let's do it."  
  
Again they made their run. But this time going along the road they came at the enemy, rather than from behind. This meant most of their incoming return fire would come from in front, too. As the chopper zipped over the roofs, Polley fired the machine gun and tossed grenades out. Goodman did his best to keep the chopper steady, but as bullet pinged off of the front windshield, he was forced to sideslip a little to make a harder target. All of the sudden, a .51 calibre bullet from the technical they had disabled tore through the front windshield. It missed Goodman's head by a few centimeters, continuing on out the open port-side door. "Christ, that was close." He brought the chopper around again and took up another holding pattern above the cityscape so Polley could reload the machine gun.  
  
"400 rounds shot, 200 in the gun, and 1000 left in the rear compartment. Ready to go. Another pass, please, Chief Hank." Polley laughed and resumed his position, leaning out the open door of the tiny special- operations helicopter.  
  
  
  
Down below in the field, Specialist, Fourth Class Mario Antonelli was firing his own M240. A few short bursts from it dropped a JSDF rifleman attempting to walk single shots up the slope of the hill towards Antonelli's head protruding above the crest. He stopped, though, when he realized he wasn't receiving much return fire from anywhere else. "Lieutenant! The fire towards us is slacking off," yelled the scrappy Italian. "Maybe they're pulling back?"  
  
"They're shooting at the choppers, Spec-Four." That was Ryker. He was reloading his M4A1 with a fresh magazine with one hand, while listening to the radio on the other hand. By this time, a flight of AH-6s was on station and beginning their own gun runs.  
  
Arleigh slipped down the slopes and into the center. His entire body was out of sight from any of the three main places the enemy was attacking from. 'At least I can't get hit by direct fire here.' He found Miller in the center, fixing a jam in his rifle.  
  
"What a great friggin' time for this to happen," spat the U.S. Army radio operator. His satellite radio was sitting next to him. Both him and Ryker had stopped calling in naval gunfire because of the choppers flying over their position. As he replaced the slide and clicked the M-16A2's receiver back together, the radio squawked. He slapped the final pieces of the rifle back together before grabbing the handset. "Delta Five-One X-ray, go ahead, Over." He listened intently over the scattered rifle fire coming from the road and Johnson's short bursts from the M249 S.A.W. Miller's expression changed quickly from indifference to his situation to immediate worry. He handed the receiver to Arleigh, who was sipping at his canteen while taking a moment to do a quick clean of his rifle's barrel. "Sir, radio for you."  
  
"What does command want?" Rivera asked, as he pulled the cleaning rod out of the barrel and reloaded the 30-round magazine into the rifle.  
  
"Not command, Sir. Bokuto station."  
  
Arleigh's head shot up. He blindly pulled back on the slide to chamber the first round. His mind raced back in time, past the firefight, past the radio conversations with the Governor and Colonel Kerr, past setting up LP Three, past the journey from the station, and right back to his conversation with Natsumi. In a millisecond, his memory fast-forwarded to the radio call that had come in just before the team became engaged in the fight on the field they now held. He remembered Captain Surai distinctly saying that the station was about to become engaged. He looked at his watch quickly. 'Jesus. That was almost forty minutes ago.' Time flew when you were in battle, he remembered.  
  
The Lieutenant snatched the handset from Miller and pressed the push-to- talk button. "Delta Five-One here. Over."  
  
"Five-One, this is Alpha Six! We're..."  
  
Before Surai could say another word, a loud explosion flew across the radio and forced Arleigh to remove the receiver from next to his ear because it was so loud.  
  
"Shit, Alpha Six! Do you copy! Captain, what the hell was that? Do you read me! Over!"  
  
Static.  
  
"Alpha Six, SITREP! Over!"  
  
More static.  
  
"Alpha Six! This is Delta-Five One! Do you copy! Over!"  
  
Everyone inside the perimeter stopped firing and turned to look at Arleigh. Ryker stopped talking over the other radio. Arleigh clenched the handset and turned around on his butt to look in the general direction of the station. Despite the ongoing firefight around the team's perimeter, it was still dark enough that Arleigh could make out tracers flying through the air two kilometers away near Bokuto Station. Another pair of AH-6 Little Birds was lighting up the area with miniguns and rockets. But there was still static on the line.  
  
"Shit." Arleigh changed frequencies. "Comet Four-Five and Four-Six, copy? This is Delta Five-One. Over."  
  
"Affirmative, Five-One. Go ahead. Over."  
  
"Four-Five, I just lost contact with Alpha Six. What the hell happened? Over."  
  
"Five-One, a friggin' RPG sailed right into the station. The TOC was hit. No word on casualties. It's pretty hot down there. We're heading back to the airport to rearm. The Japanese are swarming all over the place. Bokuto is holding on, but I don't know for how much longer. Over."  
  
"Delta Five-One. Roger that, Four-Five. Out." He turned to his teammates. "Bokuto is getting hit hard. The TOC just got taken out by an RPG round. Chopper pilots don't know how long they'll be able to hold." If anyone inside the perimeter had even the slightest good feeling about the situation, it had just been nuked.  
  
Arleigh's thoughts immediately went back to the station and the people inside the Tactical-Operations-Center. He hadn't thought about them in hours. Arleigh mentally kicked himself from not being there. He should've been at that station, too. He should've been there, defending the station from the enemy. But he wasn't. He was two klicks away in a field, fighting to stay alive. Rivera thought about Captain Surai, his aides, Kinoshita, Arizuka, the Chief, and everyone else who had been in the TOC when he left. "Goddamnit." He wondered how Miyuki, Aoi, Yoriko, Ken, and especially Natsumi were doing. Arleigh sat there in a daze while his teammates scrambled to get back to their positions. In the lull, the enemy had taken advantage of the lack of fire and moved up. Ryker screamed into the radio for help. The enemy was only 50 meters from their front line, but Halo One-One was still at the end of the road, sweeping up, and Polley was on his last 200-round belt and Goodman was turning for the airport to rearm.  
  
"Natsumi..." Arleigh tightened his grip on the handset. An explosion behind him marked the detonation of an RPG against the reverse slope of the hill. Dirt and rocks rained down on him, but he hardly noticed.  
  
Johnson was firing his S.A.W. on cyclic. Adams pegged a target with a 40mm launched grenade. Miller threw an incendiary grenade at the advancing enemy. Antonelli ceased fire to the rear and brought his machine gun around to bring more fire to bear on the front, leaving Chavez to guard the rear alone.  
  
Arleigh sighed. 'Jackass. You've got a job to do. Don't freeze up now.' He flicked his M4A1 over to full automatic and was about to drop the radio handset when a noise came back over it. It was Captain Surai  
  
"That sucked." Surai grunted. Gunfire and shouting accompanied the radio transmission. To Arleigh, it sounded as bad over a radio as the firefight around him sounded.  
  
"Alpha Six, do you copy? Over."  
  
"Five-One, roger that. Just got a little bump to the head. Read you Lima- Charlie. Over."  
  
Arleigh fired a 10-round burst into the advancing enemies before responding. "Good for you. How's the weather over your way?"  
  
  
  
QUESTIONS & COMMENTS: Bravo26Flashpoint@yahoo.com 


	11. Rocket Fire

The Siege  
Chapter 11: Rocket Fire  
By JagdPanther  
  
Sergeant, First Class Earl Morris tripped over an object he couldn't see and fell flat on his face. His left eye opened, but his right eye remained swollen shut behind a large bandage. Morris turned his head to look at the black boots s few inches from his face.  
  
Colonel Nakatani looked down at the American at his feet. He put one boot under the man's tied-up arms and flipped him over with a good kick, and then motioned for his aide to bring the man to his knees.  
  
"You're American Delta Force, are you not?"  
  
"Sergeant, First Class Earl Morris, 5-4-4-9-0."  
  
Nakatani frowned. "I asked you, are you American Delta Force?"  
  
"Sergeant, First Class Earl Morris, 5-4-4-9-0."  
  
The Japanese 2nd Brigade, 1st Division commanding officer slapped Morris, and asked him, "I am not a patient man when it comes to questions, Sergeant. Are you American Delta Force?"  
  
Again, the response was the same. "Sergeant, First Class Earl Morris, 5-4- 4-9-0." According to the Geneva Convention, soldiers captured during conflict are required to give only their name, rank, and military identification serial number. For American personnel, the response to virtually every question a captor asks is that response.  
  
Nakatani sighed. "You will talk. You will tell me how many of there you are, what your supply situation is, what your radio codes are, and whatever else you know. After all this, you will perform a most important task. You will be my bargaining chip to get what I want. I hope you understand that, Sergeant."  
  
Morris lifted his head and started defiantly into the Colonel's eyes. "Sir, with all due respect, fuck you." Then he spit in on Nakatani's shoes and smiled.  
  
Nakatani's eyes flared and immediately kicked Morris head. He then grabbed the American by the shoulders and forced Morris into his quickly moving knee. Grabbing the back of Morris' head, Nakatani slammed Morris' face into a nearby table. He left the Delta Force Sergeant bleeding and whimpering on the floor. "Are the others talking?" the colonel asked Tanaka.  
  
"No, Colonel. There is another high-ranking sergeant that is also probably Delta Force. The other two appear to be low ranking soldiers, one from the Marines and another from the Army. They are only giving their name, rank, and serial numbers, also. The two others that were killed also appear to have been low Army personnel." Tanaka glared down at the whimpering American, and gave him a swift kick to his exposed stomach. Morris vomited on the floor, and Tanaka reached down, rubbing Morris' face in the debris.  
  
"That's enough for now, Lieutenant." Nakatani led his aide into the operations room. "How is my battle progressing, Captain?"  
  
The Brigade operations officer, or S-3, turned to face his commander. "Sir, there are some problems."  
  
Nakatani grunted. "Such as?"  
  
"Well, sir, the defenders are putting up a much stronger fight than we anticipated. Their air and artillery support was resumed almost immediately after the lead elements of 3rd Battalion's assault force was ambushed by a small American force, the one that we captured, I believe. Shortly thereafter, another ambush was thrown along the northern route to the station. They destroyed several vehicles, including a tank with a homemade booby-trap. The assault was forced to proceed with only foot soldiers while the armored units found a way to clear the road of the destroyed units. The groups are constantly under air and artillery attack, but they still have managed to push their way to the outskirts of the station. They are under intense small arms fire. Some units have taken up position in buildings opposite Bokuto station to even the playing field, so to speak."  
  
"What about casualties?" Nakatani's mood was not improving.  
  
"Initial reports indicate that the 3rd Battalion has lost roughly 75 killed and 150 wounded. The report is a half-hour old, though. And that is just our forces. There is no way of telling how many the insurgents have lost."  
  
Nakatani clenched his teeth and forced out. "Very well. How is 1st Battalion faring?"  
  
The S-3 gulped. "They haven't even come within two kilometers of the station."  
  
"Why not!" boomed Nakatani.  
  
"A third ambush was thrown on their lead element. They managed to surround the ambush force, but they cannot dislodge it. Constant air and artillery attacks have removed the armor units from the equation for the time being until they can clear the road. The insurgents are mounting frontal assaults on the position while our forces attempt to flank. Both are meeting with failure. As near as we can assess, the 1st Battalion's combined group with the insurgents started with 1,400 men and has lost 250 killed and 150 wounded."  
  
Fuming, Nakatani punched the map table, spilling several cups of coffee that were sitting on it. "And just how many soldiers are inflicting those casualties?"  
  
"A company commander in 1st Battalion reports that he can only see at most seven distinctive muzzle flashes from the tiny perimeter being assaulted by our combined forces."  
  
"Seven damn soldiers are holding up over a thousand men! How is that possible!?" Blood vessels were popping out of Nakatani's neck. This was going terribly wrong. He should've taken the station by now. "What is the problem here? Can my men not fight!"  
  
"Sir, their air and artillery is accurate and relentless. They are desperately trying to defend their soldiers on the ground."  
  
Tanaka spoke up. "Sir, if I may suggest, we could use Commander Tonishi to eliminate the American naval artillery. At least we wouldn't have to deal with that, then."  
  
Nakatani looked up, eyes blazing, at his aide. "No. Tonishi cannot be wasted like that, not now. We need him later. If he takes out the artillery, then he is compromised and this whole mission will be a failure."  
  
"I'm sorry, Colonel." Tanaka lowered his head.  
  
"Don't be, Lieutenant." Nakatani pondered for a moment. "We absolutely must take the station. I want two companies of the 1st Battalion to bypass the ambush and head directly for the station. Seven Americans are not as important as what is inside that police station. Leave the insurgents and the other companies to deal with the ambush." He looked at the map in front of him. "Lieutenant, I want you to contact the insurgent commander and request that he provide the machine guns off of the backs of his trucks. I want them. We're going to shoot down some of those American helicopters. If he doesn't comply, take some machine guns off of our trucks and tanks. Then get them to the tops of buildings around the station and the 1st Battalion ambush site. When American helicopters come in, rip them from the sky."  
  
"Yes, sir." Tanaka saluted and left to confer with the insurgent leader.  
  
"Captain, tell the unit commanders to throw everything they have at the station once the reinforcements arrive and the anti-aircraft machine guns are in place."  
  
"Yes, Colonel." The operations officer saluted and began issuing orders to his radio operators.  
  
Nakatani looked at the map, with red marks surrounding a station and a field in the middle of the Sumida Ward. "We cannot lose."  
  
  
  
Miyuki Kobyakowa shot a shadow. "Damnit! A wasted magazine!" she cursed as she reloaded the 30-round magazine of 9mm rounds into her German-made MP5 submachine gun. Now over her clothes that she had acquired the previous day (it was past midnight) she had a SWAT-team issue web-gear set. The webbing was festooned with fifteen magazines for her MP5, two pouches of loose rounds for the American M24 sniper rifle she still had with her, seven magazines for her Italian Beretta 92 pistol. She pulled back on the charging handle to chamber a round from the new magazine into her MP5 when bullets stippled across the wall behind her, sending her to the floor. The bullets grouped around where she had been standing and then ceased.  
  
A short way down the hall, a Marine yelled, "Third floor, fifth window from the right!" He jumped up and fired a 40mm grenade into that particular window. The fire coming from the building across the road from the station now fixated on where the Marine had been standing to fire the grenade.  
  
Miyuki rose to her knee and peered over the edge of window frame. The building seemed almost ablaze with all the muzzle flashes from weapons being fired from it. More bullets found their way to where Miyuki knelt and she dropped down again, cursing.  
  
An Army Lieutenant and his radio operator low-crawled down the hall past Miyuki. She noticed that the Lieutenant was trailing a bloodstain from his pant leg, but it was bandaged. 'How the hell do you get a lower leg wound with a three-foot wall from the floor up? Ah, hell, nothing's impossible now.' She scuttled down the hallway to side hall where she entered an administrative lounge where Navy Corpsmen and Army medics were furiously working on wounded personnel, Army, Marines, and police alike. Miyuki crouched beside a table and retrieved a roll of ACE bandages on top of it. The medical personnel continued to work, despite the enemy rounds sailing through down the side hall, snapping and striking the floor near the door. Miyuki taped up a small laceration on her right forearm. An enemy rifle round had grazed her. It wasn't a debilitating wound, but it hurt like hell when it pressed up the stock of the MP5 or the M24.  
  
Specialist, Fourth Class Ryan Ida came over and handed the female police officer a canteen. "Here, drink of this and let me look at that wound," he said in Japanese.  
  
Miyuki waved him away and responded in English. "I'm fine. I have to get back out there."  
  
Ida stopped her. "Let me look at the wound. Yeah, sure, you bandaged it, but it can still get infected."  
  
Reluctantly, Kobyakowa sat back down as Ida undid the ACE bandage wrap. She took a gulp of the water. Miyuki cringed a bit as Ida applied antiseptic rinse to the wound. After getting the wound re-wrapped, she handed back Ida's canteen.  
  
"Nah, keep it. You don't have one. I've got a couple extra ones."  
  
"Uh, thanks." She picked up her MP5, and made her way back to the door. Before leaving, she took a moment to look at all the wounded in the room. A Marine to her left was in shock from two bullet wounds to the abdomen. An Army machine gunner past him was being held down as a Navy Corpsman attempted to remove a bullet from the gunner's shoulder. There were even a few of her fellow police officers wounded. And then there were the dead. This was just one medical station out of several across the station. If one looked at the exact casualty reports for the enemy troops and the defenders right now, it would seem as though the enemy was being taken behind the woodshed and beaten terribly. But the problem was that the enemy was far, far more numerous than the defenders. The defenders could ill-afford to lose people, but they were. Too many. Miyuki took another small sip from Ida's canteen and thought back. She had been awoken by Ken not even an hour before. The LPs had blown their ambushes and it was time for the enemy to hit Bokuto itself. After that, she had lost Ken, Aoi, Yoriko, and Natsumi in the confusion following that. She made her way to the TOC, but Surai told her she was needed more out on the perimeter than inside the TOC. Kinoshita could handle everything that needed to be done in there. Now here she was, fighting for her life.  
  
'Oh, well. Time to go back to work.'  
  
She ducked out the door and was just about to make it to the main hallway around the building when a powerful explosion happened almost directly above her. Ceiling came crashing down. She was knocked to the ground by a section of two-by-four framing. The pain was not sharp, but quite dull, actually. Miyuki got up under her own power as the Marine grenadier from before moved over to help her. She waved him off and told him to help another Marine clutching his leg from where another two-by-four had smacked his leg, probably fracturing it. As she began to return to her position, it dawned on her that if the ceiling had fallen, that meant the floor above was dangerously weak and anyone who stepped on it would fall through. Miyuki spun on her heels and ran towards the stairs back down the hallway. Army grunts, Marines, and other police yelled at her to get down as enemy bullets followed closely behind her. But she made it to the stairs without sustaining injury.  
  
Upstairs, she found the devastation. An RPG round had detonated inside the hallway. All the previous shots from the grossly inaccurate anti-tank rocket system had impacted on the thick face of the station, but this one had found its way inside. She crawled down the hall to find some Army personnel dragging a wounded comrade away towards an aid station. Miyuki yelled for people to get away from the area where the rounded detonated because the floor had not support. A Marine Lieutenant, Alpha One-Six, quickly vacated his spot with his radio operator, close to the spot. Then Miyuki realized that the round had detonated on the TOC wall.  
  
"Son of a bitch!" She quickly rushed in the open door. Smoke filled the room and she could hardly see anything in the darkness. Either the explosion had cut the power or someone had turned them off to reduce the temptation for the enemy to shoot there.  
  
She found Assistant Inspector Kinoshita huddled against the far wall, blood streaming down her neck and back. Helping Kinoshita up, Miyuki looked around and couldn't see Captain Surai or his Marines anywhere, not that that was saying much since the smoke was so thick.  
  
"No! I'm not going! I'm staying right here." Kinoshita was adamant. "No way." She forced herself out of Miyuki's grip and set-up the laptop and radio which had fallen over in the explosion. Both were working fine. As the smoke began to clear, she noticed Surai and two of his Marines on the floor. At first she feared they were dead, but once she got to them she found they were just dazed.  
  
Surai sat up and fumbled around for the radio handset. "Thanks, Kobyakowa." The Marine Company Commander flicked the talk-button, grunting and rubbing the bruise on his head. "That sucked."  
  
Miyuki helped one of the Marines with a stomach wound up and out the door. As she was leaving, she heard Surai yell over the din into the handset, "The weather couldn't be better! Damn, I wish I could be in this place everyday! It's great!" She thought the American had lost his mind.  
  
After helping the Marine into the aid station, Miyuki headed back downstairs to her spot. When she got to the landing, she noticed that if she got on her stomach, there was an unobstructed view of the building across the street. So she got down and took the M24 off of her back. Bullets zipped in through the window, but landed harmlessly on the stairs in front of her. She set the bipod and sighted a man with an RPK reloading his light machine gun while crouching.  
  
Viewing from the third floor, the RPK gunner wouldn't have been seen. But the height advantage Miyuki held by being on the stairs landing was all she needed to see the terrorist. She squeezed back on the trigger, sending the round screaming across the street. It literally took the man's head off, dropping him in a pool of blood before he even hit the ground. Miyuki cycled the bolt and took aim at another man, this time a JSDF soldier with a Type-89. She stopped before pulling the trigger.  
  
'This guy wears a uniform just like I do. Why is he doing this? Why would he want to kill his fellow countrymen?' She sat there for a moment, trying to decide whether or not to let him go or not. 'No, I can't. The fact remains is that he is trying to kill my friends and me, plain and simple.' Without further ado, she fired off another 7.62mm round, which impacted in the soldiers' chest, exploding his heart and lungs.  
  
Another soldier fell to her accurate fire before she decided to test out her new found trick elsewhere. She crawled down the rest of the flight of stairs and began working her way across to the other side of the building and another stairway. Soon she was set up again, scanning buildings across the street. She was just about to fire when Ken happened by, carrying a box of ammo for M240 machine guns on his back. He was crawling across the third floor corridor, directly below Miyuki.  
  
"Miyuki, what are you doing!"  
  
"What does it look like, Ken?" She squeezed the trigger, dropping another JSDF soldier, this one with an FN Minimi light machine gun.  
  
"Be careful! You're shooting down a stairwell and across a hallway where friendlies are!"  
  
"Everyone is keeping down. I'm shooting way to high to hit anyone here on the stairs." Miyuki reloaded the 5-round magazine, one round at a time, and closed the bolt.  
  
"Still, people could be going up and down the stairs and you wouldn't notice if you have your eye in the scope!" His sentence was punctuated with another shot from Miyuki's rifle, this one dropping a terrorist with an RPG. The windows were not safe for terrorists and JSDF troops with Miyuki Kobyakowa sniping.  
  
"I know what I'm doing, Ken. Now American troops need that machine gun ammo. Get it to them." She decided that she couldn't hit any more targets here and scuttled off to another landing, hoping to get more shots in.  
  
Ken shook his head and slid himself down the hallway with the ammo box in tow.  
  
Miyuki continued her process for a while longer. Eventually, the Marines and Army personnel picked up on what she was doing without asking. One of the Delta Force operators, Sergeant, First Class Smith, who had been forced off the roof by the constant fire from Japanese APCs joined Miyuki. Together they scouted out targets around the buildings and attempted to eliminate them from the stairwells. The darkened stairwells provided excellent cover, and unless someone was looking right at it, they couldn't tell where the rifle shots had come from.  
  
Eventually, Miyuki had to go for more ammunition. She calculated that she had probably killed or severely wounded about twenty enemies by sniping from the stairwells. Around one in the morning, she arrived at Delta's ammunition trailer. Smith grabbed a box of loose rounds and handed it to her so she could replenish her stock. On her way back, she decided to go downstairs and refill the canteen Ida had given her. She found Aoi and Yoriko tending to wounded who had been removed from the aid stations and brought downstairs to free up room.  
  
"How bad is it up there, Miyuki?" asked Yoriko.  
  
The black-haired officer wiped her forehead and responded, "It's died down a bit. It was pretty bad right after we woke up until about twenty minutes ago." She stretched her arms, which were getting a bit stiff from crawling around to stay in cover. "The enemy is probably holding and regrouping right now. We didn't face nearly as many troops as the satellite photos showed. I caught a glimpse of them after the operations room got hit by a rocket. There's supposed to be a lot more guys coming."  
  
"How's Arleigh?"  
  
Miyuki stopped. "Actually, I don't know. I haven't seen him around. I don't think he made it back." She thought for a moment. "You know, I think he's held up somewhere around where he went out. When the operations room got hit, I rushed up to help and as I was leaving, Captain Surai was talking with Arleigh over the radio. So, he's still out there. If he were dead, everyone would know by now. I'm going to go up there and ask Surai where he is."  
  
And so Miyuki did exactly that. She went up to the TOC and found Surai talking with Arleigh over the radio.  
  
"Five-One, Alpha Six. Things quieted down here a bit. We're receiving sporadic attacks, but for the most part its quiet. A U.S. Navy F-14 Tomcat running reconnaissance flights over the Ward with a LATIRN pod reports that it has enemy units stalled around our position, probably regrouping. How is it over your way? Over."  
  
"Six, Five-One. We're doing okay. They're taking up position in buildings to our front and left flanks. They're intent mostly with taking pot shots at the choppers, but as soon as the choppers are out of sight, they begin shooting at us. I think they're waiting for the road to be cleared of wreckage so they can move up more armor. But for the time being, we're good. Over."  
  
"Okay, Five-One. Be careful, though. They could strike at any time, and strike hard. Is there any way that you can E&E back here now? Over."  
  
"Negative, Six. With them up in the buildings we're pressed into our position pretty tight. It'd be suicide to leave. Over."  
  
"Ah, damn. Okay, Six out." Surai set down the handset and turned to see Miyuki. "Ah, Kobyakowa. Need something?"  
  
"Yeah, you were just talking to Arleigh, right?"  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"Is he okay? What's going on?"  
  
Surai beckoned her over to the map. "Arleigh and six other soldiers are held up here in a tight perimeter across from where they set up their listening post. Now, for the time being, they're okay. They have air and artillery keeping them safe. Someone is going to have to fly out there and get them ammo, though. They're running pretty low. But the problem is that enemies occupy all the surrounding buildings. Also, they still have technicals in the area. So if a chopper gets caught hovering over their perimeter to drop ammo will most likely get shot out of the sky. That's also why they can't attempt an extraction by chopper. They'll have to slug it out for now, but if too many troops attack at the same time, they'll be mincemeat." He sighed. "Unfortunately, there's nothing we can do about it, either. Our mortars are working overtime to cover us, and any ground unit I send out will be annihilated."  
  
Miyuki stared intently at the map. There were two blue circles on the map. One was very small. That was Arleigh's position, two kilometers away. The other was much larger, and Miyuki figured it was the station. Tons of red dots surrounded the two blue dots. These indicated enemy positions. With a grease pencil, Surai had marked the acetate-covered map with several artillery plots for the naval ships to fire on. The other plots showed where the choppers were making their runs during attacks. "What are these blue dots across the Sumida?"  
  
"Those are the lead elements of the 25th Infantry Division's cavalry unit and the 3rd Marine Expeditionary's armored battalion. They're getting ready to move out at dawn with tanks, APCs, trucks, everything. They're supposed to fight their way to our position and then we'll all clear out the rest of the Ward. I hope I live to see that. The enemy is massing for another assault very shortly." The Captain drank some water from his canteen.  
  
Miyuki gulped at Surai's last sentence. "Well, I think we can hold them back. We did pretty well with the first attacks."  
  
"Yes, we did. But we lost people, Kobyakowa. Too many. I hope air and artillery comes through for us again and keeps them back. This next attack is going to be huge. They're going to throw everything at us."  
  
Miyuki looked down at her feet and then back up at Surai. "We'll make it."  
  
"For your sake, I hope you're right."  
  
With that, Miyuki left and made her way back to her position. She un- shouldered her MP5 and got it ready for the coming fight.  
  
  
  
"Incoming! Move it! Move it!"  
  
Natsumi Tsujimoto literally fell out of bed.  
  
The Chief had barreled into the sleeping quarters rousing everyone. An RPG detonated on the outside wall of the station, shaking the room. As the Chief passed Natsumi and Miyuki's bunk, Natsumi rolled over, at first disoriented, and promptly tumbled several feet to the ground, landing with a distinctive thud.  
  
"Ah, shit..." she moaned as she massaged her right arm. Miyuki was already out the door, followed by Ken and several other officers. Several more officers bounded over her as she lay in the aisle between the rows of bunks. A few seconds later she recovered from the fall and stood, grabbing her Type-89 rifle and SWAT webbing containing extra magazines and her Beretta 92 pistol. After exiting the quarters, the Chief met up with her and the two began working their way to their positions in the back of the station.  
  
Along the way they met up with two other officers, one who had been assisting an American officer when the reports from the LPs came in that the ambushes had been sprung. The four ran upstairs and to the back of the building. One of the officers mentioned that, "LP Two got hit hard. They think everyone there is dead. LP One is on the way back from their ambush. They stopped the tanks dead, but the infantry are still pouring in towards the station."  
  
"What about the third post?" questioned Natsumi.  
  
All the officer should do was shrug.  
  
The four got to the rear just in time for two RPK machine guns to begin pounding the third floor windows. Natsumi flicked the selector switch over to full automatic and let two 4-round bursts go at group of soldiers reloading an RPG. The gunner went down, and in a dying spasm, pulled the trigger on the rocket launcher. The RPG went straight into the ground, detonated, and killed everyone within 10 meters.  
  
Farther down the hall, an Army machine gunner opened up with an M249 S.A.W. He tore into the trees behind the station. Round after round plunged through the canopy at unseen enemies. Other soldiers saturated the trees with launched grenades.  
  
Natsumi noticed more soldiers moving down the road and ducking into buildings. She thought they had just been taking cover until they opened up from the windows of buildings. Unlike where Miyuki was, these buildings were much farther away, since a forest separated the station and the buildings, as opposed to a small road. Flipping back to single-shot, Natsumi expertly placed several rounds into the windows across the way. She couldn't exactly see the enemies, but they were getting silhouetted each time they fired because of the muzzle flash. Fire from two windows ceased after Natsumi fired another eight rounds. The she shifted back to full auto and sprayed the remaining rounds at what she thought was another terrorist moving through the trees directly below.  
  
She dropped to a knee and began to reload her rifle when she heard the clink of metal against the floor to her left. Everything began happening in slow motion. Her head seemed to take an hour to shift, and when it finally did, she saw the source of the noise. A single fragmentation grenade lay in-between her and the Chief. At that moment she saw her life end. But it didn't.  
  
The Chief dove for the grenade, and in one smooth motion, flicked his wrist and sent the explosive device floating out the window, where it exploded harmlessly behind the perimeter wall, wounding the terrorist who had thrown it. The Chief scrambled back to his feet and continued firing an AK-74 out the window on full auto.  
  
Every time Natsumi pulled the trigger, she remembered what Arleigh had told her earlier in the day. 'If I don't kill them, they'll kill me and my friends.' She found it disturbing that someone as herself, who was usually so strong mentally and physically, needed to tell herself each time that what she was doing was right, despite how she might be feeling.  
  
The bullets kept flying. American and Japanese machine gunners did their dances of death with their weapons, each pouring out hundreds of rounds. RPGs sailed in at the station while 40mm grenades arced back out the windows. The difference was amazing. The Americans and police were effectively holding back a much larger force. Simply, between the terrorists and the Americans, it was bad quality versus good quality, while between the JSDF and the Americans, it was one training versus another.  
  
The terrorists were amateurs. They're style of fighting was crude and a good way to get themselves killed. On the other hand, the Americans were some of the best fighters in the world. As with times before the siege of Bokuto, the Americans had dealt with terrorist and militia forces who did not have the resources of a well-trained military. Then there were the JSDF troops. After World War II, the Americans disbanded the Japanese military. What rose from the ashes was the Japanese-Self-Defense-Force, and that's exactly what it was. The Japanese troops were far inferior to the Americans in terms of training. Virtually all their training was in defensive tactics and peacekeeping. The Americans were trained to do that and a whole lot more. Unaccustomed to assaulting anything, the Japanese troops employed tactics that no American would ever think of doing, such as exposing troops in line formations, something that defenders do to maximize firepower. But the terrorists and the Japanese troops still had one ace. They were far superior numerically to the besieged defenders. Plus, they had on-site armored units.  
  
At this point, the APCs and tanks had moved up in the rear. They were still stuck along the route LP One had held earlier. The armored units still did not attempt to blow the building up, which they could easily have done. This contributed more to Natsumi's feeling that there was something very important to them inside the station. However, the APCs did use their 35mm cannons to suppress sniper fire from the roof. That took away a distinct advantage that the Americans had, which was the high ground. 'He who holds the high ground usually wins,' as the saying went. The tanks primarily sat back and fired their machine guns, uninterrupted, at the station. Soon, however, they realized their mistake in pulling up to the station. By showing themselves, the tanks opened themselves to American officers calling in artillery strikes from the U.S. Navy cruisers and destroyers out in Tokyo Bay firing in support of the defenders. Japanese trucks and technicals hung back, too, pounding away with their heavy machine guns. Every now and then an American would attempt to take one out with an AT4 rocket launcher.  
  
Natsumi reloaded yet another magazine and noticed that she was down to three. She glanced around and noticed that everyone was running pretty low. The attack had been relentless, and everyone was firing as fast as they could. "Hey, Chief! We need to go get more ammo." An AH-6 Little Bird buzzed by, spraying minigun rounds and rockets into the fray of enemy soldiers behind the station.  
  
"I know, Tsujimoto. I'm way ahead of you." The Chief got up and sprinted towards the stairway.  
  
Swearing, Natsumi stood, fired a burst in hopes of hitting something and took off down the hallway. She caught up with the Chief on the stairs and the two ran out a back door that led to road inside the station's perimeter wall. The roar was deafening, but they pressed on, hoping not to pop an eardrum or two.  
  
"Over here!" Natsumi shouted above the din. The two officers ran up to one of the trucks the Marines had ridden in on. Inside were boxes of ammunition. "Okay, let's take these." She slid several boxes of ammunition for the M-16A2 and M4A1 rifles, which most of the Americans were using. She grabbed a box of loose rounds, too. The same 5.56mm bullets the American weapons fired was what her Type-89 fired. She could reload her empty magazines with the loose rounds. The Chief grabbed two 1,000- round boxes of ammo for the M249 machine gun. He also took hefted two boxes of 40mm grenades.  
  
With their extremely heavy cargo, the two made their way back inside the building, which took them past the Marine mortar team, which was frantically firing 81mm mortars as Marine officers and radio operators up above called in enemy positions. Making their way up the stairs, the two spaced out the boxes evenly along the length of the hall. Almost immediately, soldiers dived for the boxes to grab more magazines. With only 40 per box, they went pretty fast. More boxes would have to be brought up. One Marine turned around and calmly said to the Chief, who he remembered from earlier in the day spoke English, "You know, there's a bunch of ammo boxes two rooms down from the aid station on the other side of the building on this floor. We brought a bunch up earlier." The Marine, completely oblivious to the battle raging, explained exactly where the crates were. He also said he thought he saw some boxes of AK and Type- 89 magazines in the same room.  
  
"I'll go get them," said Natsumi after the Chief translated for her. She got up and scampered down the hallway, crouching as she went to avoid the bullets flying through the window. Diving into the room, she quickly located the box of Type-89 magazines and grabbed enough to hold her for a while. She also grabbed as many AK magazines as she could carry. Apparently, the Chief wasn't the only one using an AK up here, since there were already several missing from the box. She hurried back to the rear of the building and forked over the ammo.  
  
Once again, Natsumi selected single-fire and began trying to take shots at the buildings across the forest. The same effects were reached, as she dropped two more terrorists.  
  
Suddenly, a technical burst out from one of the side streets behind the station. It turned directly towards the station and began accelerating. But this technical lacked a .51 calibre machine gun. The post stand was still there, but the gun was gone. Also, the truck was flaming. Natsumi flicked over to full automatic and laid waste to the driver, firing in concert with several Army and Marine gunners. To her surprise, the truck swerved as the dead driver slumped over, hit a tree, and exploded in a huge blossom of flames. The reason it surprised her was because the explosion was almost like a tank or an APC exploding. She quickly deduced that there must have been explosives aboard and the truck was going to ram the back wall and detonate its cargo. She would later discover that she was right.  
  
The Chief shuffled over to her, keeping his head down as another RPK machine gun began shredding the wall behind. He leaned over and dragged Natsumi down as the enemy gun began targeting her general area. Pulling her close he yelled over the noise, "Here! You have to take this up to the operations room! Go!" He handed her a copy of a map, to which she thought, 'Evidently, someone has found time to use a Xerox machine during this battle.' Also, she received a casualty list. 'I guess the American commander requested this.'  
  
Natsumi crawled down the hallway, past where an RPG had blown a sizeable chuck out of the outer wall, eliminating the three-foot cover the window frame offered. Next, she bounded up the stairs and onto the fourth-floor hallway. More Army grunts, Marines, and police were here firing away at the enemy below. She slid to the side of the hallway as two Army grunts dragged a wounded Marine to the nearest aid station. Making her way down a side hall and back out onto the main hall on the other side of the building, she found a police officer, dead, position against the wall. She didn't recognize who the man was. That's when she saw the destruction that the RPG had done to the TOC wall, which was crumbling as she crawled down the hall. Also, she noticed that several tables had their legs broken off and were laid across the floor right in front of the main impact crater. Natsumi wondered if it was still the TOC, given the damage, but made her way inside nonetheless. As she entered, an AH-64-D Longbow Apache gunship came to a slight hover over the parking lot out in front of the station and began pounding away with its 30mm chain gun. Enemies dove for cover as the rounds impacted all around them.  
  
Across the room, Kinoshita sat, bandaged, at a table running the communications with city government, continuously giving updates on the situation. Surai, his radio operator, and an Army officer were against another wall, marking positions on a map and coordinating and plotting air and artillery strikes around the building.  
  
"Captain! An officer sent these up." Natsumi handed the map and casualty list over.  
  
Surai accepted the two items. "Thank you, Tsujimoto." He patted her on the shoulder, turned back around, and continued marking enemy positions with a grease pencil on the map.  
  
"Um, sir? Have you heard anything about Arleigh, er, I mean, Lieutenant Rivera?" Natsumi tugged at the shoulder strap of her rifle while asking.  
  
The Marine Captain slowly swiveled to face her. He took a deep breath before answering. "He and his guys are all still alive. They're pinned down near where they sprang their ambush. We can't get to them by ground and helicopter extraction is too dangerous. All we can do is bring down air and artillery all around them." He nodded and returned this his task.  
  
Not wanting to bother him anymore, Natsumi left the TOC. Just as she got back to the stairway, a Marine to her right went down. She rushed over and quickly applied pressure to his wound. He received a single rifle shot to the chest. There was no exit wound. In military terms, it was what is called a 'sucking chest wound,' which is almost always fatal unless treated properly.  
  
"Come on, let's get you the hell out of here."  
  
In passable Japanese, he responded, "No, I'm fine. Leave me here. I can fight." The Marine pulled back away from Natsumi, leaving a bloody stain on webbing and rifle's shoulder strap. His movement faltered a bit and he fell in a heap to the ground. The Private, First Class attempted to get back to his knees and fire his M-16A2, but that too failed.  
  
Natsumi looked at the man's nametag. "No, damnit. Lance Corporal Carter, get up! You're going to the aide station." Passing her arm underneath the man's arms, Natsumi got the man up and headed towards the aid station. Amazingly, the Marine still had enough energy to provide a good portion of the lift on his own. Just as the two were about to get to the side hall leading to the aid station, someone yelled, "RPG!"  
  
Seeing the light of the rocket's tail out of the corner of his eye, the Marine used to last of his energy to push Natsumi down onto the ground and cover her body with his. The Rocket-Propelled-Grenade detonated on the inside wall of the fourth floor. The Marine absorbed almost all of the force of the explosion and the fragments. He died instantly. As the wall behind her began to fall, Natsumi quickly pushed the dead officer off of her and scuttled away as plywood, drywall, and two-by-fours collapsed where she had been lying. Natsumi sat there on the ground, stunned. "He just sacrificed himself to save me..." Dazed and confused, a couple of Marines charged past her and jumped up on the rubble. She couldn't understand why they were jumping all over their comrade's dead body until she looked at what they held.  
  
The room, which had taken the blast, was now ablaze, but the two Marines were quick to respond with fire extinguishers that they had commandeered earlier for this exact purpose. Natsumi looked across the rubble, past the two Marines, to an Army rifleman tending to a police officer grievously wounded by the RPG. He motioned for Natsumi to help him. She commanded her legs to move and soon she scurried past the rubble and was helping the second victim in as many minutes get to an aid station. 'Maybe this one will survive.'  
  
With Natsumi's help, the Army grunt hefted the police officer up onto his shoulder and made his way into the aid station. Natsumi followed, keeping the officer steady as they shuffled into the room with all the medics for that floor. Immediately, she realized that this police officer wasn't the only one wounded. Right behind her, a Marine was dragged in, also a victim of the RPG, which would've surely killed Natsumi if not for the selflessness of the Marine she had been trying to help. Inside the room there were already several wounded Americans and police officers. Two Army medics and a Navy Corpsman worked at lightspeed to get people treated and move on to the next person. At this point, the medical personnel were tearing up t-shirts from their rucksacks to seal off wounds, as they were running out of bandages. Fortunately, almost every soldier kept at least one or two field bandages in his butt-pack along with other items.  
  
The two set down the wounded riot-control officer down on a couch. Navy Corpsman Petty Officer, Second Class Steven Williams jogged over and did a quick examination of the wounded man. The Army rifleman left to return to the defensive line, but Natsumi wanted to stay and make sure the officer was okay. She aided Williams in securing a few field dressings to the officer. Williams spoke good Japanese and comforted the man, saying that he would be all right. The fragments had passed through him in his left shoulder and arm been stopped over his gut by the bullet-proof vest he had worn. Williams began a Serum-Albinum drip, which was an IV-introduced blood-expander to keep patients who have lost a lot of blood from going into shock.  
  
Natsumi turned to go, but Williams caught her.  
  
"You're next."  
  
"But I'm not wounded."  
  
Williams knew it was not a rare occurrence for people in battle to not notice that they had been wounded. "Yes, you are." He motioned to her clothes. "You're covered in blood. All right, off with the webbing and the shirt. Come on."  
  
"Oh, no, no, that's not my blood." She shook her head from side to side. "That's a... That's the... Well, there's no easy way to say this. A Marine covered me up when that RPG just hit. It killed him. This is his blood."  
  
Williams looked down. "That was very brave of him. Sorry." The Corpsman began to turn away to deal with another patient, but noticed a trickle of blood going down Natsumi's arm. "Wait, there's no way that's the Marine's blood." He grabbed her arm and lifted the shirt above the shoulder-socket. "You're wounded, all right. Sit down."  
  
Natsumi was confused. "I'm wounded? How did that happen?"  
  
Williams returned with a field dressing. "The fragment must have just grazed you, but it's still a bleeder. Here." The Petty Officer, Second Class secured the dressing around her arm and tied it tight after he cleaned the wound as best he could, Natsumi wincing all the way from the sting of alcohol on an open wound. "There you go. How does it feel?"  
  
"Besides the antiseptic stuff, can't feel it at all."  
  
"That's the adrenaline talking. You will feel it later." Williams got back up and moved to deal with another wounded person.  
  
Natsumi collected her rifle and returned to the rear of the building where the Chief was reloading his AK. The fighting had died down a bit. By that, it wasn't intense, constant firing, but rather sporadic shots from all over. It was still quite dangerous. The enemy was holding and regrouping for the moment. Over the relative silence, Natsumi was able to make out gunfire much farther away. 'That has to be Arleigh.'  
  
Helicopters zoomed over head and artillery shells fell outside the station at random intervals. The mortar tubes outside were silent, except for the sounds of them cooling down from their constant use.  
  
It was 0110 Hours. One-ten in the morning.  
  
  
  
QUESTIONS & COMMENTS: Bravo26Flashpointyahoo.com 


	12. Broken Arrow

The Siege  
Chapter 12: Broken Arrow  
By JagdPanther  
  
Arleigh propped himself up on his right elbow in the small valley made by the two hills the team used as cover. "Running real low on ammo." He put another magazine into his rifle. "Conserve ammo, guys. Pick your targets. One shot, one kill." The Lieutenant yawned and rubbed his forehead before crawling back up to the crest of the hill. He was down to six magazines for his M4A1. 'Christ, I carry more than this on standard patrols.'  
  
Fire incoming on the team's position was sporadic again. Every few minutes a rifle or machine gun would fire a few short bursts, and the team would promptly throw back a few rounds just to remind the enemy that they were still alive. Ryker called in harassment artillery, too. For now the team could rest. But they knew they still couldn't move. Just because the enemy wasn't firing and attacking didn't mean that they weren't there.  
  
"Sir, we're going to need more ammo. A lot more," Antonelli said from his position across from Rivera. "I'm running real low. Probably won't make it through another extended fight." The machine gunner tossed a few empty boxes that once contained 200-round belts of ammo into a pile on the slope. He took his last full belt-box and set it next to the gun, loaded with a belt of only 130 or so rounds.  
  
Ryker nodded to his commander. "Yeah, we need a re-supply somehow." The Delta Sergeant also had his remaining magazines stacked next to his spot. Using some tape from his pack, he secured his empty magazines around the radio to protect it from flying shrapnel and debris.  
  
"I'm working on it." Rivera picked up the handset and hailed Camp Zama. "Command, 5-1 is really low on ammo..." Arleigh was cut off by the explosion of an RPG to his front. Immediately, intense fire erupted around the team's position. A technical flew around the corner and came hurtling across the field. It's gunner tried vainly to keep the gun steady, but all his shots flew wildly about. Ryker dropped the artillery radio handset and began firing at the vehicle, killing the driver. The truck swerved to the left and kept going, apparently locked in drive. The gunner tried to swing the gun back around, but was tossed from the vehicle in doing so.  
  
More RPGs ripped into the field. Arleigh was amazed and thankful for the ridiculous inaccuracy of the weapon. He fired several short, controlled bursts across the field. Slapping another magazine in, he noted that he was down to five. Snatching up the handset again, he called in, "This is Delta 5-1! We're in heavy contact! Need immediate support and above all ammo! Over!" Arleigh dropped another 40mm grenade in between two SDF soldiers manning a light machine gun. "I'm out of grenades!"  
  
  
  
  
  
At the airport, Polley and Goodman were just landing to refuel. Up ahead, the two Apaches were already receiving their rearm. Barry jumped out upon landing to get a new strap for the machine gun. He'd broken it on the last run when it caught on the airframe of the MH-6.  
  
The rotors came to a halt while Goodman did a quick systems check to make sure everything was still working. "Hydraulics... Good. Rotor shaft... Fine. Avionics... Okay." He looked up. "Windshield... Definitely needs to be replaced." Several bullet holes dotted the Plexiglas bubble. "But not now."  
  
Polley returned with the M240 medium-machine-gun and a new harness strap. Just as he replaced his helmet and headset, Rivera's call for more ammo came in, followed shortly by the report; "We're in heavy contact!"  
  
"Barry?"  
  
"Yeah, I know. We'll pile as much ammo in the back as possible. I'll fly back there and shove it out over their position. Quick in and out."  
  
"Roger that."  
  
By that time, Goodman had the rotors up and spinning. He slid the chopper over to the hangar door. A technician ran out to the chopper.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"Get all the ammo you can find and load it in back! We're going out to re-supply 5-1!" yelled Goodman over the rotor's whine. He checked the magazine of his MP-5K to make sure it was full.  
  
"You're crazy! You'll never make it! Look at this thing, you've got bullet holes all over the place! If you hover, they'll nail you with an RPG!"  
  
"Don't argue with me! Just do it! They need ammo!"  
  
"Fine!" The technician spun around and ran back into the hangar while Goodman idled the chopper's engine. After a minute, several Delta Force administrators (non-field Deltas) ran out, hefting boxes of ammo. There were boxes of rifle ammo, machine gun ammo, hand grenades, launched grenades, and 4 AT-4 rockets.  
  
Polley got out and oversaw the loading. Once he was certain everything was secure, he climbed into the back with his machine gun and motioned for Goodman to lift off. All the weight of the ammo provided for a difficult take-off, one that required Goodman to get a small bit of forward momentum first. Soon, the chopper was airborne and on its way back to the field to re-supply Delta 5-1.  
  
  
  
  
  
Rivera directed one of the Apache gunships to strafe the part of the field directly adjacent to the road. Seventy-millimeter rockets lanced out from the warbird and laid waste to another group of terrorists and SDF personnel. Several more pulls of the trigger emptied Rivera's rifle's magazine. He grabbed another one. "Two more left!" he shouted over the din.  
  
Johnson's gun misfired and he cursed. He slid back down into the center of the valley and began clearing the jam. The jam saved his life. An RPG sailed right through the spot where his head had been. "Son of a bitch!"  
  
Chavez swore and tried to bat the exhaust smoke from rocket out of his face. The soldier resumed his firing position. He spotted several enemies attempting to flank the hills from the uncovered south west approach, which up to this point had been untouched.  
  
All Johnson had to do was flip up the machine gun's feed cover, realign the belt, drop the cover, and pull the charging handle. Johnson then realized that he was down to his last ammo belt. "L-T! I've only got, like, a hundred rounds left!  
  
Rivera turned around. "Ah, hell! Fire really short bursts!" He quickly returned to firing. The enemy assault increased in vigor. It seemed like the team's return fire was doing nothing to stem the tide. The M4A1's slide locked back and Arleigh gulped. He hit the release button, dropping the clip. Reaching into a pocket on his webbing, he pulled out a magazine. "Last mag!"  
  
Nearby, Goodman keyed the com-set. "Delta 5-1, this is Halo One-One!" The MH-6 was slowly making its way over the canal, barely over the canal. The helicopter was small enough to fit mostly into the canal right above the waterline.  
  
"Don't even bother asking, Chief! Just shoot at anything!" screamed Rivera back over the line. The crack of his MSG-90A1 came along with his voice. He was out of ammo for his M4A1.  
  
"Negative, Lieutenant! We've got a full load of ammo! Prepare to receive it! Over!" Goodman popped the chopper out of the canal and sped up. Within a few short seconds, the MH-6 was racing towards the field. It made a pass at altitude over the field so Goodman could get a fix on the team's position again. The move would be quick, but it didn't take long for the enemy to realign their aim and nail the chopper with gunfire and RPGs. Already in back, Polley was preparing to push all the boxes out of the open rear compartment. Everything would have to go in one push. The less the chopper was over the target, the less of a chance they'd be struck.  
  
Rivera was thoroughly confused. There was no way that anybody would be as stupid as to fly into this firefight and hover a chopper to deliver ammo. Then he remembered why people were recruited into the 160th SOAR in the first place. 'Oh, yeah. I forgot. The same reason they wanted me for the One-Six-Zero. I have no concept of personal survival.' Arleigh looked up and saw the MH-6 zip by over the field again. "Roger that, One-One! But it had better be fast or you'll be joining us down here!" He dropped his MSG-90A1, its final clip empty, and grabbed his Beretta M9. "Okay! Guys! We've got a re-supply coming it! Expend all of your remaining ammo! We have to cover them!" Rivera turned back towards the enemy and fired his pistol as fast as he could. 'I think I remember myself thinking that if I had to use this pistol it would already be too late. Well, time to see if that's true.'  
  
Polley was positioned in the back of the MH-6. 'One shot. That's it. This had better work.' He braced himself against the airframe and prepared to push all the ammo out the side. His M240 was secured to the back wall, ready to fire as soon as everything was clear.  
  
In the cockpit, Goodman was ready to zip in and zip out. He began his final approach. "Delta 5-1, this is Halo One-One. Here we come." The Chief Warrant Officer said a prayer to himself and began dropping the altitude of the chopper as it neared the field. The MH-6 was completely blacked out. No running lights, no cockpit lights, nothing. Hank watched as hordes of green tracers converged on a small part of the field below. 'Well, at least they're making it easy to find.' Very few red tracers left the point on the field. Traveling just above the rooflines, Goodman tried to keep the chopper as inconspicuous as possible until there was a good point in the fighting to zoom in and dump the ammo.  
  
As if on cue, the enemy fired died down, almost like every enemy had to take a break and reload their weapon. Goodman immediately gave the Little Bird a burst of power and headed out over the field at 35 feet. He looked down through the windows near the pedals and saw he was exactly over the team's position. He turned in his seat and yelled as loud as he could, "Do it now, Barry!" In a flash, Barry Polley put all his energy into his legs, and thrust forward, pushing every box of ammo out the door. The heavy items plummeted into the small set of hills. Some banged off of the landing skids but kept going.  
  
By the luck of God, the boxes all dropped inside the team's perimeter. Even better, none of the soldiers were hit except for Chavez. An AT-4 dropped onto his foot, but the combat boot's sole absorbed most of the impact and Chavez, firing off his last magazine, barely noticed.  
  
Polley, immediately upon clearing the boxes out of the door, screamed at Goodman to lift out of the area. The pilot ripped the collective straight up, giving the chopper a huge jump. Working the pedals to counter-act the sudden increase in torque, Goodman gained forward momentum and sped away from the field, made a quick turn, and got confirmation from Polley that he was ready to begin firing the machine gun. "Okay! Here we go again!" As Polley fired, Goodman realized that in the few seconds over Delta Five- One's position, he hadn't seen or heard a single round from the enemy. The terrorists and SDF personnel had been so stunned by the appearance of the black shape directly over the field, for such a short time, that they hadn't even had a chance to open fire on it before it was rocketing away.  
  
Down in the field, Miller ripped the lid off of a box of M-16 magazines with his K-Bar combat knife. He immediately fitted a clip into his rifle, thumbed it back over to burst-fire mode, and began returning fire. Chavez also reloaded his M-16, grabbing magazines from the box of 20 magazines. Each box had distinctive markings on top that denoted what kind of ammo was contained within it. Johnson grabbed opened a box of S.A.W. ammo, Antonelli grabbed a loose bandoleer of 7.62mm rounds that had also come down with the boxes, and Adams, Ryker, and Rivera pounced on the boxes of M4A1 clips and 40mm grenades.  
  
Arleigh thumbed his rifle back over to full automatic and poured a magazine into the advancing line of terrorists. He saw Halo One-One pass over head, a long muzzle-flash coming from its side as Polley fired his M240 in support of the team. Shortly after clearing the area, a flight of AH-6 Little Birds screamed over, pouring rockets and minigun fire into the enemy.  
  
Rearmed, the team began pouring out return fire at a blinding rate. But their fire was still puny in comparison to what they were receiving. The advantage that they held, though, was not in volume, but it accuracy and cover. SDF personnel and terrorists had to cross the relatively flat field under rifle and machine gun fire, let alone the deadly naval artillery and air support. The only hills on the property were along the canal where the team was.  
  
Ryker gave the U.S.S. Chaffee and the U.S.S. Chancellorsville a grid to rake artillery over only while air support was idle, some aircraft on their way and the rest returning to the airport to rearm and refuel. After radioing in the instructions, Ryker picked his up his rifle and scanned the field ahead. He took a second before firing to analyze the situation. 'This is death.' With that, he began returning fire. A burst dropped an SDF rifleman in his tracks. Another burst felled a terrorist. 'What the hell is going on here? Why are they doing this? There's got to be some reason.' Ryker tried to dismiss all thought from his mind. As a Delta Operator, he was trained not to think about anything but the mission. One split-second of lost concentration could result in death. So it was back to firing.  
  
A terrorist with an AK-74 equipped with a GP-40 grenade launcher moved up into position near the team. He had crawled through the rough grass all the way to a point only about 10 meters from the team. When he thought he had come close enough, the terrorist shot up to one knee and brought his rifle to bear. He grabbed the grenade launcher's pistol grip under the rifle barrel and squeezed the trigger.  
  
Where the terrorist had come from was the uncovered side by the building Chavez had noted earlier. The terrorist's launched grenade flew right into the team's position, piercing the casing of one of the AT-4s. Neither object detonated. The terrorist was stupefied by the failure. So, he loaded another grenade and fired it again. Failure again.  
  
As the second round landed, and failed to detonate, Ryker happened to be turned around to grab another magazine for his M4A1. He saw the round land and drive itself into the ground. Then he saw the damaged AT-4. Looking in the direction from where he saw the grenade come from, he saw the terrorist trying another shot. Just as the terrorist looked up from grabbing a grenade from his ammo pouch, Johnson put a single round through the man's head. Blood shot out of the back of the man's head as he fell. The terrorist had never known that the GP-40 grenade had to fly 15 meters before it armed itself.  
  
It seemed like only seconds had passed since Goodman and Polley had dropped the ammo onto the team's position. Actually, it had been well over an hour. Now around 0300 hours, the fighting was still raging and again the team was running low on ammo. Rivera called in that the team was low on ammo and needed a re-supply. The team had expended 4 rockets on troop concentrations, 40 launched grenades, 3,000 rounds of ammo each for two machine guns, 80 M-16 magazines, and 80 magazines of ammo for the M4A1. That was a lot of ammo in such a short period of time for seven men, but then again, so was the amount of troops they were facing.  
  
"This is Delta 5-1-X-ray requesting immediate re-supply of ammunition! We're running dangerously low! We won't be able to hold on much longer! Over!" Miller ducked as an RPG sailed over his head and impacted in the canal behind the knoll. He picked up his M-16A2 and fired two three-round bursts into the advancing column.  
  
By now, the enemy had a piece of cover much closer to the team. A few minutes earlier, the last air support run had nailed an APC. It had managed to works its way across the field during the air support runs. When aircraft were around, the navy couldn't fire their guns because of the risk of hitting something friendly. However, the aircraft had repeatedly failed to get the APC. So for a few scary seconds, the enemy was allowed to advance without resistance against the team as they cowered in the bottom of the depression, trying not to get their heads shot off by the 35mm rounds from the APC. One enemy soldier got so close that he was able to toss a grenade into the position. Fortunately, the grenade landed right in Adams' hand, who quickly forced it over the edge of the hill, where it exploded harmlessly. Right after it exploded, an AH-6 landed a rocket right under the turret of the APC, destroying it. However, the APC wasn't burning. It was just dead in the field. That meant the enemy could use its hulk to screen them while they moved closer.  
  
Already, Halo One-One was on its way back with more ammo while the team tried to keep the enemy at bay. It seemed like there was an endless supply of terrorists and SDF personnel advancing on their position. The team killed one, and another one would pop right up to replace the downed comrade.  
  
"This is insane!" yelled Adams, dumping another magazine in the general direction of the road. At this point, everyone was firing at anything that moved. The field was so littered with bodies that it was getting hard to distinguish living soldiers who were prone to dead or dying ones lying in pools of their own blood. Another grenade arced high into the air and landed with a thump beside Lance Corporal Javier Chavez. "Grenade!" Without thinking, he snatched up the grenade and tossed it back into the field. It airburst several feet over the ground, sending shrapnel back into the team's position.  
  
One piece imbedded itself in Private, First Class Mark Miller's right thigh. "I'm hit!" He dropped his rifle and immediately dropped his rifle. "Damnit!" He dove for Antonelli's medic bag on the slope of the hill and dug for a dressing. Feeling around, he grabbed the largest olive-drab field dressing he could find and a syringe of Morphine. 'Thank God I paid attention during basic medical training.' PFC Miller felt his wound to see how much blood was coming out. The pain was staggering, and he was worried that the shrapnel could only cause that much pain if it struck something important. 'Good. It didn't hit my Femoral.' It was a popular misconception that only shots to the chest or head would quickly kill a person. In reality, any part of the body could become an instant kill if one of the major arteries was hit, such as the Femoral, which fed the legs. He tightened the dressing down and stuck himself with Morphine to keep the pain at bay while he fought.  
  
Rivera turned around. "You all right?" he bellowed.  
  
"Yes, sir!" To show his truthfulness, he struck up his rifle, chambered a new round, whipped around, and began firing bursts at the enemy. "I'm good!"  
  
Returning to his position, Arleigh quickly analyzed his situation. Grenades were going to be a real problem if the enemy continued to get closer. Right now, the occasional grenade was relatively easy to deal with. But that wouldn't be the case if tens of the little buggers started to fly in. He thought of what each man had brought with him when they were packing up back at the station. "Adams!"  
  
"Yes, sir!" The Marine Sergeant finished off another magazine for his Colt M4A1. Grabbing another, he glanced over at his commanding officer.  
  
"Sergeant, I want you to stop fighting as soon as the enemy fire dies down a bit. Then I want you to dig a grenade sump in the middle of this depression." A grenade sump was a fixture common in bunkers. If an enemy soldier happened to get close enough to toss a grenade into the bunker, the grenade could be pushed by the soldiers inside into a hole where it would explode harmlessly. Well, harmlessly as long as no one was stupid enough to stand over the hole. In this case, Rivera decided to get gravity to be that soldier who pushed the grenade into the hole. 'Let's see if we can get basics physics working for us.' Any grenade that could get into the position would roll down the slopes into the hole. "Pile the extra dirt around the edges of the position to form as complete of a bowl-shape as you can. I want the grenades to be able to roll down into it by themselves if no one can get to it."  
  
"Yes, sir!" He pulled his pack closer and removed the entrenching tool from the sling on the side. After a few more minutes, he decided the firing was down enough to start digging. First he removed all the debris from the center of the position, which was the lowest point. Shell casings, empty boxes of ammo magazines, empty magazines, and a few of the team's rucksacks. He placed them on the slopes and began to dig. The extra dirt was placed around the slopes as Rivera had requested, and in about twelve minutes he had a medium-sized grenade sump at the lowest point of the slopes. The team couldn't expect all the grenades to fall into the sump, and some might get caught on the items around the slope, including team members. So the team would still have to be on the look out for grenades to either toss back or shove into the grenade sump.  
  
Sergeant Adams had just finished and was stowing his shovel when Halo One-One returned with another load of ammunition. Just as before, the blacked out chopper made it over the target without receiving any fire, and was on its way out before it did take any major hits. This time, however, the enemy wasn't as stunned and it did get a few shots off, and Specialist, Fourth Class Mario Antonelli noted a few sparks of rounds impacting on the rear side of the fuselage.  
  
The fire died down once again after Halo One-One finished its supply run. It again returned to the sporadic bursts of fire from both sides. Team Delta Five-One, fully supplied with ammo again, sat tight while they prepared for another attack. Delta Sergeant, First Class Ryker helped Adams continued improving the fighting positions. They dug small platforms into the hill, sloped back towards the grenade sumps, for the men to take better positions on. The ammo was distributed equally, instead of the mad dash for ammo like the previous re-supply. Rivera shoved several clips for his rifle and several launched grenades into his web-gear pockets. The rest he put in a stack next to him on his fighting platform. This would make for quicker reloads in a pinch when he had split seconds to change out magazines in heavy fights. The rest of the men followed suit. "All right, time to wait for the next attack."  
  
The Delta Lieutenant had a couple of the men stand down and drink some water. As he sat there, eating an LRSU ration he had hydrated earlier at the LP, he watched the tracers from Bokuto station arc high into the sky. The rumble of gunfire and explosions followed the flashes. He wondered how the battle was progressing there between, undoubtedly, a much larger force, and the station's defenders. Every now and then the sound would die down, and then slowly build back up to a frighteningly loud apex, and fall off once again. "They must be catching hell back there."  
  
Chavez looked up from his canteen. "Excuse me, sir. And we're not?" The Lance Corporal shook his head and reached for a cracker from the MRE he hadn't finished from when they were all still in the LP.  
  
"Yeah, we definitely are. I guess I should've noted that." Rivera gulped down the last of the ration and began to break down his Colt M4A1 rifle. He figured he had time for a quick cleaning of the rifle. It was better to be safe than sorry in this kind of situation. "Give me a couple minutes if things heat back up. I want to clean it out quick. Chavez, Antonelli, and Ryker, I suggest you do the same. Don't want these things to jam after all the firing we've done."  
  
Amazingly, the enemy remained dormant long enough for all the members of the team to take breaks and clean their weapons. Ryker called in a few harassment rounds from the destroyers out to sea. The U.S.S. Lassen, DDG- 82, had just entered gunnery range and was beginning to fire rounds in support of the Americans in the Ward. Most of the fire support for now was being diverted to Bokuto since nothing much was happening around the team.  
  
Then all hell broke loose.  
  
"Jesus Christ!" Rounds began kicking up dirt all around Rivera's head as he supported himself on the slope of the hill. He fired wildly back into the darkness along with the other team members. It seemed like the entire JSDF had crawled up to within a few meters of the team. Grenades arced at the position, but the grenade sump began earning its pay. The grenades either rolled into the hole or were pushed back over the edge by the soldiers. They began throwing their own grenades back, weary of sticking their heads up over the edge for more than a few split seconds. By cooking the grenades, or letting their fuses burn for a few seconds, they were able to eliminate the possibility of the explosives being thrown back at them.  
  
In one of the scariest moments in Sergeant Dale Adams' life, an SDF soldier jumped up and charged the hill. Just as Adams got a line on the man with his rifle, it clicked, signaling an empty magazine. "Son of a bitch! Die, damnit!" Adams didn't have time to grab his pistol and fire, unless he wanted to be skewered by the enemy's bayonet. So Adams' hand-to- hand combat training took over automatically. He turned to his side at the last moment, grabbing the rifle by the barrel with his left hand, and smashing his right elbow into the man's face. In a swift motion, he jarred the rifle from the man's hand and swung it up and into his jaw. Bringing the rifle down, he grabbed the pistol grip of the Type-89, cleared the chamber with a quick operation of the slide, and fired a long burst into the SDF soldier's chest. "Ooh-rah! Come and get me, jackasses!" With another long burst, he cut down the soldiers who had followed their fellow SDF soldier in his charge. Adams fell back into the team's position, dragging the enemy body with him. He figured that as long as he had an enemy weapon, he might as well use it so he didn't have to waste his own ammunition. Using the commandeered Type-89, Adams continued to cut down SDF personnel and terrorists attacking the position. "Semper Fi, goddamnit, Semper Fi!" he screamed as he fired entire clips off on full automatic mode.  
  
Across the perimeter, Arleigh and Ryker called out target groups to each other, coordinating their attacks to eliminate what they thought were the most pressing threats. In short, whoever was closest died first.  
  
"Lieutenant! Four guys, two o'clock!" Ryker bellowed, dropping a magazine and slamming home another one.  
  
"Roger that!" Arleigh shifted the rifle to his alternate grip (left hand on the trigger) so he could get a better position on the group. He fired three bursts, dropping two of the men. A launched grenade finished off the other two. "Sarge, RPG, three o'clock!"  
  
"Affirmative!" The Delta radioman rolled over onto his right side and took aim, dropping the RPG gunner with a single shot to the head and his assistant gunner with two chest shots. Noticing some more troops to his left, Ryker rolled back to the left while flipping his rifle over to full automatic. Firing a burst into the group, Sergeant, First Class Al Ryker felt a heavy thump against his shoulder. Looking down, he saw the dark outline of a grenade against his elbow. "Grenade!" Snatching up the grenade, he hurled it back at the enemies moving up. It exploded, taking out several men getting ready to charge the hill. "Hoo-ah!" Firing off the last of his magazine, Ryker reloaded and resumed fighting. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a terrorist jump up a mere five meters from the position, sporting an AK-74 with a bayonet. "Lieutenant! Head's up!"  
  
Rivera's head whipped around just in time to miss the blade by a few inches. He drove upward into the man's gut and slammed him down against the reverse side of the slope. Batting away the rifle with his free hand, Arleigh reached for his K-Bar combat knife, but couldn't get to it before the terrorist rolled over onto Arleigh. The two struggled while tossing around on the slope. Surprisingly, no one shot at them. Evidently the enemies thought that they wouldn't have to expose themselves to any return fire if this terrorist could finish the job up close. But the struggle continued. Arleigh flopped backwards over the lip of the hill and back into the team's position while attempting to dodge a punch. He slid back down the slope and over the grenade sump. The terrorist leaped onto him, nailing Arleigh with a knee to the gut. The terrorist punched him in the jaw and went for Arleigh's knife while Arleigh struggled for air. Just as the terrorist grabbed the knife and was about to stab Rivera, another grenade landed in the position, coming to a rest next to Arleigh. His body was blocking the sump. He knew if he didn't move, at least Miller, Antonelli, and Ryker would die in the blast. Forcing every last bit of strength he had left into his arms and legs, Rivera pushed the terrorist off of him and turned the man over, knocking the grenade into the sump. The explosion was muffled by the terrorist, who died instantly from the massive amounts of shrapnel filling his back. Arleigh picked the man up and rolled him over the edge of the hill, so he wouldn't block the sump.  
  
Just as he was about to grab his M4A1, another terrorist jumped over the crest and slashed at Arleigh with an already-drawn knife. The first slash missed, as did the second. Arleigh jumped on top of the terrorist and tried to force the knife out of his hand, but Arleigh missed and the knife slashed ripped his fatigues up along the left arm. Arleigh bit back a cry of pain and kept on fighting. He rolled to his right, grabbing his arm with his right hand. He kept pressure on the slash while he reached up and grabbed the pistol from Antonelli's hip-holster. As he turned back to face his attacker, he felt pain blossom in his right thigh. Looking down, he saw that the terrorist had lunged for him, driving the knife into his leg. The terrorist lifted the knife up to strike again, but Miller turned around and tackled the terrorist, driving his own K-bar into the man's heart. This allowed Arleigh time to bring up the pistol and shoot two bayonet- wielding SDF personnel charging towards the team's position. Miller quickly dove back to his rifle and cut down more soldiers.  
  
The Lieutenant dropped another two enemies with Antonelli's pistol before the clip ran dry. Reloading it with one of his own, he took aim, despite the excruciating pain in his thigh, and continued firing. After another reload, he tossed the pistol to SpecFour Antonelli, who happened to reloading his M240.  
  
"Thanks, Lieutenant!" The Italian machine gunner fielded the pistol and began suppressive fire with it while he tried to reload the machine gun with one hand. In a few seconds, he was back in action, laying waste to the advancing enemy. What Specialist, Fourth Class Mario Antonelli was doing was called "grazing" fire. That was a technique used to deal with enemies who might be crawling towards a position rather than standing or crouching. Fire was directed only nine inches to a foot and a half above to the ground in the hope that soldiers in the prone position would be caught in the head, shoulders, and arms by rounds.  
  
"Keep firing, for God sakes men, fire!" Arleigh powered over the pain and resumed fire, cutting down anything that moved. When another clip ran dry, he reloaded. While reaching for the magazine, he also grabbed the radio handset with a couple fingers. After the clip was inserted and locked, he fired off a couple rounds at an SDF soldier firing his S.A.W. from the assault (standing) position. Arleigh snatched up the radio with his left hand and keyed the talk switch. "This is Delta Five-One! Broken Arrow! I say again, Broken Arrow! Broken Arrow!"  
  
  
  
  
  
At Camp Zama, over thiry kilometers away, the radio operator in the Combat Center was stunned that a radio transmission had come in from the team. There hadn't been any communication with them for quite some time. Immediately, he keyed the com-set. "Delta Five-One, confirm Broken Arrow! Over!"  
  
"Broken Arrow confirmed! Our position hasn't changed, just bring everything you have down right around us! We're being overrun!"  
  
"Roger that, Five-One!" The radio operator turned around and informed General Walker that Delta Five-One was being overrun by enemy forces.  
  
"Goddamnit! Screw the Japanese and their friggin' rules! Get TAC- AIR (Tactical Air-Support) over there right now!" Walker fumed as he watched the recon shots from the helicopter circling high above the battle at Bokuto station. There wasn't another Command and Control chopper available with direct-video support to watch the other battle at Delta Five- One's position, so he had been in the dark for a long time. "Brave men are dying out there and I can't do a damn thing about it because I can't see what's going on!"  
  
  
  
  
  
Back at the airport, Polley and Goodman watched as a flight of Marine AH-1W Super-Cobra gunships lifted off and headed towards the battle. They had just been refueled after a flight up from a Marine base to the south of Tokyo. More Cobra's and the Army's Apache gunships were also getting rearmed and refueled at the moment.  
  
Polley shook his head as he strapped himself back into the MH-6. "God help those boys."  
  
As Goodman looked out the still-cracked windshield, he saw twin tongues of blue flames shoot out the back of a black silhouette. Another pair quickly joined it and the two pairs raced down the runway and rose quickly into the sky. They were U.S. Air Force F-15E Strike Eagle fighter- bombers. They had been on hold since the battle started, but now General Walker had authorized their use above the Japanese government's wishes. They made a sharp bank to their left and headed towards the battle in Bokuto.  
  
It was a ridiculously short flight for the two long-range jet-aircraft. The flight of Strike Eagles took up a pattern over the Ward to survey their targets. The two aircraft spent a minute in the pattern while they identified their targets and broke up. The lead aircraft headed towards Delta Five-One's position while the other went to support Bokuto.  
  
Sierra Nine-Five, the lead Strike Eagle, lazed the field with an on-board laser designator. The gunner, seated behind the pilot, gave the pilot the flight instructions on his display. The computer handled control for a few seconds while it aligned the aircraft to drop its four bombs. Each bomb was assigned a different point around the team's position, marked clearly by where the most fire was concentrated.  
  
"This is Sierra Nine-Five. Three, two, one, bombs away, bombs away!" The pilot kept his course since there was no apparent threat from any anti- aircraft artillery or missiles. The gunner watched the bombs into the target several seconds later.  
  
"Boom, boom, boom, boom! All good hits! Woohoo!"  
  
The Strike Eagle dove towards the ground like a predator. The pilot skillfully lined the aircraft up and lit off the plane's 20mm Vulcan Rotary cannon. A pole of flame burst out from the nose of the plane as shells rained down upon the enemy. Entire squads of enemy soldiers fled from the carnage just one Strike Eagle had brought. But after just three passes, the plane had exhausted its supply of shells and had to turn for home. As is lifted up and away, the JSDF AAA units finally opened fire, but none of the hastily fired 35mm rounds came close to the American fighter.  
  
"Sierra Nine-Five is inbound to FARP Lion (Forward-Arming-and-Refueling- Point). Request immediate rearm for continued support of American forces in and around the Sumida Ward."  
  
"Roger that, Nine-Five. Cleared to land on Runway 11."  
  
  
  
Back at the team's position, Arleigh used the fear of the enemy to his advantage. While they cowered from the Strike Eagle's cannon, he had Antonelli help him patch up his arm and leg. The Army medic quickly applied bandages to Rivera's arm instead of the field dressing, which Arleigh said might hamper his shooting. After applying a dressing to Arleigh's leg, Antonelli gave his commanding officer a shot of morphine to keep the pain down in the leg.  
  
"Thanks, Doc."  
  
"Not a problem, Lieutenant." Mario Antonelli quickly turned back around and grabbed his machine gun. He thought of how odd it was that he had been selected to carry the M240 by his Lieutenant on this mission, since Antonelli was a medic and needed to be able to move to downed soldiers quickly. He made a mental note to get rid of the gun as soon as possible. "Hey, Miller!"  
  
"Yeah, Anton?" Miller fired off a burst at a terrorist who had just reloaded his GP-40 grenade launcher.  
  
"Take over for me on the –240, will ya? I need something lighter. Give me your –16."  
  
Miller fired off a couple more bursts, reloaded, and shifted over to where Antonelli was lying. "Roger that." He handed over the M-16A2 and changed positions with the Specialist.  
  
Antonelli accepted the assault rifle and crawled to where Miller had been. "Thanks a lot, man." He propped himself up on his elbows and fired off a few rounds as the Marine Cobras began their rocket runs, pouring 70mm rockets into the surroundings.  
  
The team continued the battle. Even with all the support the team was getting, the enemy was still hanging on. Down the street, an Apache knocked out a tank before it could threaten the team. At least the enemy armor was now playing a factor in the battle. It was just infantry against infantry. For several more minutes, the two sides exchanged fire while helicopters buzzed overhead, laying waste with rockets, chain guns, miniguns, and the machine gun Polley was hefting in Halo One-One. As soon as the last chopper left for a rearm, the Strike Eagles, now reinforced by another two flights, one of Strike Eagles and one of F-16 Fighting Falcons, were back to drop more ordinance. More smart bombs crashed down around the team followed by bursts of 20mm cannon-fire. The bombs were dropped far enough away so that they wouldn't hit the team with shrapnel if they were a little off-target. The same couldn't be said for the enemy soldiers, out in the open.  
  
Once the fighters finished off their cannon shell reserves, they turned for the airport to rearm once again. Over the radio, Arleigh gathered that the helicopters were just getting rearmed then and air support would be a few minutes late. Naval artillery would fill in for the moment. Like a one-gun-understrength battery, the three naval cannons from the Chaffee and Chancy began their salvos. The 125mm artillery rounds began crashing around the team. With the absence of deadly aircraft, the enemy renewed its assault. The men fired their weapons on cyclic. Waves of enemy soldiers rushed the position and were cut down by rifle and machine gun fire.  
  
Lance Corporal Casey Johnson was a man with a mission: stay alive. He was burning up his S.A.W.'s barrel firing it constantly. The barrel began to glow from the massive heat generated by the belts of ammo flying out. Quickly diving for his pack, Johnson removed a spare barrel from a cloth casing inside his ruck. Using a set of gloves, Johnson ripped the hot barrel out of the gun and replaced it with the new one. He tossed the barrel with the gloves onto the ground beside him, covering it with lose dirt so he wouldn't burn himself.  
  
Resuming fire, he cut down an SDF soldier charging with a bayonet. Without a weapon capable of holding a bayonet for him, Johnson unsheathed his K-bar and set it down next to him for quick use. Just as he looked up, another SDF soldier popped up several meters away and charged forward. Johnson snatched up his knife and bolted forward, slapping the soldier's rifle to the side, and slamming the knife deep into soldier's chest. Removing the knife and striking down the soldier with an elbow to the face, Johnson engaged another SDF soldier rising out of the grass to attack him. The two got into a scuffle, rolling along the ground before Johnson finally got the upper hand. He flipped the man over onto his back, and, pulling out his pistol, shot the man in the gut and chest. Casey heard someone scream for him to get back inside the perimeter. As he rose, he was struck in the left side by two bullets from an AK-74. Johnson collapsed to his knees, blood flowing out of his abdomen.  
  
"Johnson!" Adams screamed and hopped over the crest. He grabbed Johnson by his web-gear harness and dragged the limp Lance Corporal back into the team's position. "Medic! Medic!" Since Johnson was a fellow Marine, it made it that much harder for Adams to comprehend that someone was hit. At the same time, Adams couldn't understand why Johnson had been so stupid as to leave himself exposed. If only he had told Johnson to get back sooner, maybe he'd be okay. "Goddamnit, medic!"  
  
Army medic Specialist, Fourth Class Mario Antonelli swiveled on his butt to see what was happening. He saw Adams dragging Johnson's body back over the crest as bullets kicked up dirt all around. "Ah, shit!" Mario grabbed his medic kit. Before he moved he realized that he was leaving the entire backside of the position uncovered. With Johnson down, one of the team's two machine guns was down. From the looks of the wound from where he was, Antonelli figured he'd probably need Adams' help, thus eliminating another defender. He spun back around and grabbed Marine Lance Corporal Javier Chavez by the neck of his fatigues. "Chavez! Man the S.A.W.! Cover the back!"  
  
Chavez managed to choke out a "Roger that" when he turned and saw Johnson's bloody body. "Goddamnit..." He recovered and scrambled around the hill to Johnson's silent light machine gun, picked it up, and resumed firing.  
  
Antonelli immediately torn open the rest of Johnson's fatigue top and skivvies. "Sergeant, I need you to just keep applying pressure to his wounds! Hold on, I have to get set up!" Antonelli frantically searched through his kit for sulfa power, a wound disinfectant, and a bottle of serum albinum, a blood expander used when wounded soldiers were losing a lot of blood. Next he grabbed the largest dressings he could find and bandage wraps. He grabbed the scissors and morphine last. "Okay, just keep pressing down, Sarge."  
  
The medic set to work quickly. He tore open the package of sulfa powder and poured it all over the two gun shot wounds. Lifting up Johnson to one side, Antontelli felt around for exit wounds. In-and-out gun shot wounds were much better than wounds where the bullet stayed inside the body. They were easier to treat and the risk of infection was much, much lower. There was only one exit hole. "Damnit! Sarge, talk to him! Just talk to him! Keep him from going into shock!"  
  
SpecFour Antonelli poured the last of the powder onto the single exit wound. He quickly cut some bandages to size and, with Adams' help, fed them around Johnson's body several times. Next came the dressings. Using the largest he had, Antonelli attempted to seal the single wound that had an entrance and exit hole. If Johnson would die of blood loss, it would be from these holes. Dying from something else would be a result of the other wound. "Okay, Sarge, lift him up!"  
  
Sergeant Adams lifted his fellow Marine up while Antonelli secured the second dressing to the exit wound. Even while Adams tried to talk to Casey Johnson to keep him alert, he was aware of all that was around him. Behind him, Chavez kept the S.A.W. roaring away. To his front, Miller kept the M240 chattering, laying down deadly 7.62mm fire. To his right, the Delta Lieutenant and Delta Sergeant were firing their carbines and grenade launchers, trying to keep the enemy at bay.  
  
"Sarge! Sarge!"  
  
Adams snapped out of his short departure from reality. "Yeah, what?"  
  
"I can't do anything more for him," quipped Antonelli as he stuck Johnson with the morphine syringe. "Hey, Johnson, can you hear me?"  
  
The Lance Corporal croaked, spitting up a large portion of blood, but he could talk. "Yeah, I can hear you. How bad is it, Doc? Am I gonna be okay?"  
  
"Look, you hang in their, Corporal. You hang in there. You're going to be all right. Just keep hanging in there." Antonelli backed away, turned, and grabbed his rifle. "Sarge, don't move! Just keep applying as much pressure as you can! Keep the IV bottle above him so everything flows right! And keep talking to him!" He fired a few quick bursts and threw a grenade just to let the enemy know that he was still there. Then he moved across the position and hit Rivera on the boot. "Sir!"  
  
"How bad is he, SpecFour?" Rivera finished off another clip, but didn't reload until after he had launched another 40mm grenade out into the field.  
  
"Real bad, sir. He's got two gunshot wounds. One was an in-and-out. The bleeding is terrible. But the other bullet is still in there. Where it is on his body, I think it might have hit something vital. Even if it didn't, I don't have enough equipment to keep him alive. If we don't get him to a surgery table within the hour, he's going to die. I can't control the bleeding. He needs surgery, and fast." Antonelli whipped up his rifle and shot two terrorists charging the position to Rivera's back.  
  
"All right, you did good, Mario. Get back to him. Put Adams back on the line." Rivera fired off another clip as Antonelli returned to tend to Johnson. Adams returned to the crest of the rear slope. That left the team with only five guns on the line against however many were still out there. He picked up the radio handset and called in, "This is Delta Five- One! I've got a Marine down! I've got a Marine down! Critical casualty, he needs a doc, now! Over!"  
  
Command immediately came back over the net. "Negative Five-One! It's too hot down there! Any chopper we send it is going to get blown out of the sky! There's no way anything can get in there, pick up your guy, and get him back out safely. I'm sorry, but he'll have to wait until we can get to you on the ground or you can evacuate your position and make it to a safe landing zone. Over."  
  
"Christ! He's going to die long before then if we don't get him out now! We need an evac now! Not later, now! Over."  
  
"I'm sorry, Five-One, it just can't be done. We can't send a chopper to certain death! Over."  
  
"Ah, to hell with that, Command! There's no guarantee it'll get shot down! This man needs a doctor now! Or he's going to die! Now get me an evac chopper, goddamnit! Five-One out!" Rivera slammed the handset down and fired a long burst into a terrorist with an RPK near the roadside providing fire support for the enemy moving up. Arleigh didn't care if he hit the guy or not. 'Damnit, I need an evac.' The radio squawked.  
  
"Delta Five-One, this is Halo One-One. We'll do it. Over."  
  
Rivera just stared at the handset for a second. Bullets whizzed by his head, but he didn't seem to notice. 'Christ, those two are insane.' "Halo One-One, roger that! It's goddamn hot down here, we'll try to give you all the covering fire we can. This needs to be done real quick. Over."  
  
"We know, Five-One. Can't stay long. We'll set down in the rear of your position. Be ready when we get there. Over."  
  
"Roger that, One-One! We will be!" Just then, another voice cut in on the line.  
  
"Delta Five-One and Halo One-One, this is Sierra Flight. Be advised, we'll provide covering fire for you. We'll make cannon passes along the front and side of your position, Delta, to cover you, Halo." The Air Force flight of two F-15E Strike Eagles had just lifted off from the airport and were headed towards the field.  
  
"This is Crossbow Flight, we're inbound, too. We'll draw fire along the road. Suppress with rockets and chain gun." Crossbow was a flight of Marine Cobra gunships inbound from the airport. "Anything for a fellow Marine. Ooh-rah!"  
  
"Much obliged, Sierra and Crossbow, much obliged. Okay, let's do this, Delta." Goodman goosed the MH-6 Little Bird forward. "What do ya say, Barry? Think the old girl can survive another trip into that hell hole?"  
  
"Better hope so, or that guy is gonna die." The Chief Warrant Officer pulled back on the M240's charging handle, chambering the next belt.  
  
"I meant us, Barry," Goodman replied, blacking out the chopper once again as it approached the field.  
  
"Yeah, I know. But we have to do this." Polley unlatched himself from the safety harness. As soon as they landed, he'd jump out and assist loading the wounded soldier.  
  
"Affirmative." Goodman dove to the deck and skimmed along the rooflines. He could see the battle still raging far ahead. Naval artillery bombarded the field while the choppers and fighters hung back, awaiting the extraction of the wounded Marine. "Sierra Flight and Crossbow Flight, this is Halo One-One. We're on final approach to Delta's position. Are you ready? Over."  
  
The fighter pilots and chopper pilots came back loud and clear. "You just say the word and we'll start our run, Halo. Over."  
  
"Okay, one mike (minute) out. One mike out. You ready, Delta?"  
  
"Roger that! Let's do this!" Rivera dropped the handset and his rifle. He scuttled over to Johnson and Antonelli. "Okay, Halo's going to try an extraction. You stay here and man the line; I'm going to get him to the chopper. Got it?"  
  
Antonelli picked up the M-16A2 by his feet. "Yes, Lieutenant!" He crawled back to the crest to fight, all the while saying a prayer for Johnson. 'Come on buddy, you can do it. Just hang on.'  
  
"Miller, get over here! Hold up his IV packet! Just keep your head down and as soon as we get him inside the chopper, you run like all hell back to the position! You got me, soldier?"  
  
"Yes, sir!" The Private, First Class scampered over and took hold of the IV canister.  
  
Sergeant Adams turned around. "Let me take him, sir!"  
  
"Negative, Adams. I'm taking him. You keep on firing!" Rivera got his arms under Johnson's body and lifted him up, while still trying to keep a low profile for the enemy troops firing at the position.  
  
"Damnit, he's a Marine, sir! He's my responsibility! He's in my fireteam!" Adams pleaded with Rivera.  
  
"I don't have time for this shit, Sergeant! Fire your weapon!" Rivera heard the chopper before he saw it. The black shape of the MH-6 began to settle into the field as the surroundings exploded. As one last naval artillery salvo fell the Air Force fighters began shredding the field with cannon fire as they dived in from over a thousand feet. The Marine choppers began tearing up the roadway and front portions of the field with rockets and cannon fire.  
  
Halo One-One landed some twenty meters out behind the lip of the crest on uneven terrain. It began tilting to the right, so Goodman had to lift it up a little. "Shit! Got to keep her steady!"  
  
Rivera jumped up and began running towards the chopper with Johnson in his arms and Miller by his side. It was the quickest twenty meters in his life. Before he knew it, he was beside the chopper. Polley had already jumped out and was in back, ready to receive Johnson.  
  
"Here! Let me take him!" screamed Polley over the rotor wash.  
  
Rivera shoved Johnson, a little too forcefully, into the chopper. Just as he did, Miller got hit in the back by an RPK machine gun round. Miller screamed out in pain. Polley was knocked over from the force of Miller being flung forward.  
  
Goodman turned around in his seat quickly. "What the hell's going on? Come on, damnit! We're taking heavy fire!" Bullets pinged off the frame as he fought to keep the chopper steady.  
  
As Polley regained his senses, he saw Rivera shoving Miller into the chopper along with Johnson. He banged his fist on Goodman's seat. "Get us the hell out of here!" He lunged forward, grabbing Miller by the seat of his pants and held on for dear life. The MH-6 jumped into the sky and sped off into the night sky, tracers reaching up at it. As they flew, Polley prayed that he wasn't crushing Johnson underneath the two other bodies. Carefully, he let go of Miller with one hand and felt for Johnson's neck. There was still a very faint pulse. 'Please dear God, don't let these boys die, please, God. Not today...'  
  
  
  
Back at the field, Rivera sprinted into the position and dove for his rifle. Now the team was down to five men. "Keep firing! Keep firing!" The remaining two flights of choppers tried to maximize their time over the target area. The AH-6 Little Birds and AH-64 Apaches made pass after pass with rockets and cannon.  
  
Each man remaining in the position fought for their life. As the fire died down, Rivera quickly reorganized the defense. With two men down, he had to shift everyone to fire in certain areas. "Okay, everyone has 72 degrees of the circle. We have to hold until either ground support arrives in late morning or we can exfiltrate the area. Everyone, I need your 110% out here right now. We've lost two men already, we can't afford to lose any more."  
  
"Sir?" Sergeant, First Class Ryker Al Ryker spoke up. "Sir, we have to get out of here. We can't stay any longer." Ryker held the artillery net handset in his left hand, and his M4A1 in the other. "This place is death. We've been lucky to survive until now."  
  
"I know that, Al." Rivera didn't even flinch as an artillery shell from the Chancy landed close to the team's position. He looked at his watch. "It'll be dawn in less than an hour." Thinking things over, and taking a quick mental inventory, he decided what the team should do. "Before first light, we're pulling back. We'll egress back to Bokuto station. It's two kilometers. I figure that with what we've faced tonight, and what Bokuto is probably facing right now, it'll take us two hours to get back safely."  
  
"Risky," was all Adams could say. "Risky, but I don't think there is anything else we can do. We have to go."  
  
"Right. Anyone else got an idea?" No one answered. "Okay, that's it. Here's what we'll do." He looked at his watch again. "In twenty minutes it'll be 0500 hours. At that time, we're going to envelope the position with as many smoke grenades as we can. Then under an air attack, we'll slip out. Our primary route is going to take us parallel to the canal. There's an alley that runs parallel to it for about 600 meters according to this map. We take as much as we can. Take the machine guns. Adams, you're now our second machine gunner. Raid Johnson's and Miller's packs for anything important. If you think it's important, take it. I don't want to leave behind anything that could aid the enemy. Take ammo, take maps, take claymores, take strobes, night-vision goggles, supposing any of them work." During the fight, most of the goggles had been rendered useless by shrapnel or bullets, anyway. "Take grenades, radio batteries, medical supplies, whatever. Fill your packs to the brim. Attach it to your person. If you can't carry it, leave it here. We'll blow as much of it as possible with what C4 we have left."  
  
The team set to work preparing to move out. While Ryker and Antonelli raided the extra rucksacks, Rivera called in the team's plan to move out. Adams and Chavez provided cover with the machine guns, sending out random bursts to keep the enemy at bay. Since the last air attacks, the enemy had done little except the occasional burst of fire or moron charging with a bayonet alone. At 0455 hours, everything was set. The useless goggles, extra strobes, and claymores were all dumped into the grenade sump along with Adams' entire remaining supply of C4 plastic explosives. With the fuse set, the team was ready to roll.  
  
"Okay, everyone ready?" Rivera got four confirmations. "Well, here goes a whole lot of nothing." He grabbed the handset from the radio on his back. With Miller evacuated, Arleigh was he own radioman now. He usually carried his own radio when he was an infantry commander, anyway, so it was easy for him to revert to it. "This is Delta Five-One. We're ready to haul ass."  
  
"Roger that Delta. Crossbow, Comet, Sierra, and Romeo Flights beginning their attack runs now." Romeo flight was the F-16 flight that had arrived on station earlier.  
  
"On five, everyone toss a smoke." Rivera counted to five, pulled the pin, and tossed a smoke grenade. A rainbow of white, red, green, yellow, and blue smoke formed from the five grenades. Another salvo contained two whites, a red, and two greens. A third salvo was two whites, and three blues. The entire field was a FUBAR of smoke, as Crossbow Three-Three described it over the air support frequency. "Delta team, move out."  
  
Ryker and Rivera covered the team, tossing grenades back into the field. Sending Ryker back with the team, Rivera made one last look around the position. Some enemy bullets fired blindly zipped by, but they were all wide. Right before leaving, the Delta Force First Lieutenant reached into the grenade sump and turned on the timer on the C4. He had one minute to clear the area. Arleigh ran for dear life across the smoky field, stumbling across bodies of terrorists and SDF personnel. Behind him came the crashing explosions of rockets from helicopter gunships. Just as he reached the edge of the field by the canal, he heard the C4 detonate, destroying the last of their equipment. Once he reached the canal, he looked around. The rest of his team was no where in sight. He carefully and silently stalked down the edge of the canal in the early morning light. 'Where the hell are they?' he thought.  
  
  
  
  
  
At Tokyo Airport, the MH-6 known as Halo One-One settled down. Medical personnel raced out to the chopper with stretchers. They quickly loaded the two faintly alive soldiers up and quickly moved them to a makeshift hospital in the hangar. A Delta Force surgeon and two Navy doctors were already prepared for surgery. With any luck, Marine Lance Corporal Casey Jones and Army Private, First Class Mark Miller would live.  
  
Polley slid out of the rear of the chopper. Blood stained his flight suit as well as the cargo compartment.  
  
Goodman was in the cockpit checking the chopper's systems when the warning lights all went off at the same time. He tried to engage the rotor brake, but it wouldn't work. "Holy shit! Barry! Run, damnit! Just get away from her, now!" Chief Warrant Officer Hank Goodman unlatched his belt and vaulted out of the chopper. He ran around, grabbed Barry Polley, and the two sprinted away. The chopper's main rotor began to smoke and rotate violently. Pieces of the rotor assembly flew off. The two pilots dove into a ditch on the side of the helipad. The rotor finally seized against the airframe and came to a halt. Emergency fire crews raced out to the chopper as the two 160th Special-Operations-Aviation-Regiment pilots peered over the edge of the helipad.  
  
"Well, that was interesting," quipped Hank.  
  
"Uh, yeah." Barry rubbed his face as the fire crew began spraying foam on the MH-6. "Guess that's the end of that."  
  
The tail-boom fell off the chopper, only confirming his statement.  
  
"Wow. We flew in that thing?"  
  
  
  
  
  
A hand reached out and pulled him into a dark corner. With a knife thrust against his neck, all he could say was, "Goddamnit, Ryker. Never, ever do that again. Ever."  
  
"Nice to see you too, Sir."  
  
  
  
  
  
QUESTIONS & COMMENTS: Bravo26Flashpoint@yahoo.com 


	13. Hitting the Wall

The Siege  
Chapter 13: Hitting the Wall  
By JagdPanther  
  
"What the hell was that about? There's no one standing there," remarked the Chief sarcastically after a few rounds impacted in the wall behind him. He was lying down, completely out of view from the enemy outside. "What a glorious waste of ammunition." Another couple rounds punctuated his sentence. "Great."  
  
Natsumi propped herself up against some debris and cleaned the Type- 89 rifle she had been using for the past several hours. "Still keeps our heads down, Chief." She slid the cleaning rod in and out of the barrel. It was amazing to her how much junk could collect in the rifling after such a short time of use. Of course, she had been firing the weapon quite a lot. "I wonder how Arleigh is doing. The fire over that way seems to be dying down a bit."  
  
The Chief took a sip from a canteen and shrugged his shoulders. "Seven guys against the rest of the terrorists and rogue SDF guys. Not good odds, that's for sure. But I've known Arleigh long enough to know that he's probably smelling like a rose about now. The guy just does not care about how desperate a situation is."  
  
She finished cleaning the rifle and reassembled all the major parts. Now all she could do was sit and think. Sitting there, Natsumi massaged the small cut she had received to her shoulder earlier. It stung a little bit, but it wasn't debilitating. 'I just hope Arleigh is all right.' Looking around, she noticed that more ammo would be needed if an attack broke out soon. "I'm going down to the Marines' trucks to get more ammo. Better use the stuff from there. If an attack comes it'll be easier to get the boxes in the store rooms up here."  
  
"Okay, I'll hold our spots for the time being." The Chief slid over to make room for Natsumi to pass by.  
  
Natsumi headed down to the ground level and out the back door. She passed a group of Marines cleaning out their 81-mm mortar tube. The other mortar tubes were nearly vertical, a testament to how close in to the station they were firing. Continuing past the Americans, Natsumi came to a Marine truck and grabbed two boxes of lose 5.56mm ammunition and a box of clips each for the M4A1 and M-16A2 rifles that most of the Americans carried. 'Hmm, we seem to be running very low on ammo for as many police officers and soldiers we have here holding the lines.'  
  
She didn't know that there was actually another ammo dump on the other side of the station. A small firefight earlier that she had written off as harassment fire had actually been the enemy attempting to shoot down a trio of Blackhawks that had swooped in, seemingly from nowhere, to drop loads of ammo that had been slung underneath their airframes. The runs had been made by 1st Btn/25th Avn. pilots flying completely blacked-out and escorted by Marine Cobras. When the terrorists and Japanese troops opened fire, they were cut down viciously by accurate rocket and chain-gun fire.  
  
Shrugging her shoulders, she spun around and began back. She smiled at the Marines with the mortars as she passed them. All of the soldiers turned and smiled back.  
  
"See, boys? That's what we're defending. Ooo-rah!" quipped a Marine Sergeant watching Natsumi retreat back into the station with the ammo. "Okay, back to work. I want these tubes finished in two minutes. Hustle up."  
  
Back inside, officer Tsujimoto hefted the boxes to the hallway where the Chief and herself were stationed. She took to reloading several empty clips for her Type-89 rifle with the loose 5.56mm rounds that she had brought up from the Marine truck. Now she had seven extra magazines not including the one already in the rifle. After leaning against the wall for a few minutes, she realized that the lull in the fighting would make her die of boredom. 'Well, that's an interesting thing to think. I'd rather be getting shot at then sitting against a wall. I must be going crazy.'  
  
"Tsujimoto."  
  
Looking up, Natsumi replied. "Yes?"  
  
"Go find Miyuki. If she isn't doing anything important, go around the building with her and find out what all the people from Traffic are doing. I want to know how my people are doing. I'd go myself but someone has to hold the position and you're fidgeting so much I doubt you'd be able to stay here any longer with nothing going on." The Chief grimaced after his last words.  
  
Natsumi nodded. "Okay. Be back soon."  
  
  
  
  
  
Colonel Nakatani poured over the tactical map in his command center near the Sumida. "If we're having as much trouble as we are with a mere seven Americans in a field, I can see why our forces can't take down this building. Lieutenant, have you contacted the terrorist commander yet with my request?"  
  
Tanaka nodded. "Yes, Colonel. He agreed with your assessment and is preparing his units for action. They will be moving into position shortly for the attack."  
  
"Good. We must leave that building itself intact or else we will lose what we're looking for, but that perimeter wall is only making things worse for us. Contact all units and have them rush the building as soon as the wall has been breached." Nakatani frowned as he circled several areas around the station with a grease pencil. "There will undoubtedly be an American counter-attack in the morning. Have our remaining tanks in the area set up defensive positions at these points. With any luck, by the time that attack comes we will have the piece of the plan and it will be transmitted."  
  
"Then all we have to do is gather up all of our key personnel and quietly slip out of the Ward, sir?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Hopefully we will be able to make it to Commander Tonishi without being caught. But with the amount of people we intend to take, I don't see how it will go completely noticed, Colonel. We need a diversion."  
  
Nakatani grimaced. "I hope you do not think that I had not thought about that already, Lieutenant. When the time comes, we will be ready and the Americans will take no notice of our escape. Of course, they will be thinking of little else besides their own terrible losses that they will be receiving."  
  
At that time, Nakatani's S-3, or Operations Officer, walked in. "Sir, reports are filtering from the Bokuto Station battle that the machine guns you ordered to roof tops are being systematically eliminated by American sniper fire."  
  
"Well then put them behind air conditioning units! Or stairwells! Are my troops incapable of learning anything from training? Don't leave your position, especially high value targets like anti-aircraft guns, in plain view!" The rogue Japanese Colonel slammed his fist on the table. "Do I have to go out there and do this myself? Well, do I?"  
  
The S-3 did not answer.  
  
"See that the troops in the field are informed as to why they are being shot at by American snipers. Tell them to set up the guns out of a line-of-sight from the top of the station."  
  
"Yes, Colonel."  
  
"Make it quick, Captain."  
  
"Yes, Colonel."  
  
"Or I'll have you out there manning the guns yourself."  
  
"Yes, Colonel."  
  
"On your way."  
  
"Yes, Colonel."  
  
  
  
  
  
Miyuki quietly cycled the bolt on the M-24 while scanning for another target. She had already eliminated an entire gun crew and she was working on a second crew. "Bingo. Another one. 500 meters, top left of the tallest building."  
  
To Miyuki's left, one of the Delta's, Smith, responded. "I see him. He's alone. Could be a spotter."  
  
"Whoever he is, he's going to be dead shortly." Miyuki lined up the shot and sighted in on man's chest. He was holding what appeared to be a Russian SVD sniper rifle, but he wasn't pointing it anywhere in particular. He could've been on the roof just for the scenery. Miyuki's 7.62mm shot tore through him two seconds later and dropped him like a brick onto the roof.  
  
The female police officer rolled onto her back and reached for her canteen. Her forearm brushed the butt of the rifle and she recoiled a bit. 'Damn, that still hurts.' Grabbing the canteen she, Miyuki took a sip of water and wondered why it had been so quiet. Sure, there was a little bit of sporadic gunfire around the perimeter, but it had been this way for too long. 'They must be mounting something major.' Rolling back over, she nudged the American. "What time is it?"  
  
Bringing his arm up to his face, Smith pulled back on his fatigue sleeve and checked his watch. "0220 Hours. Two-twenty in the A.M."  
  
"I kind of figured it was morning, Sergeant."  
  
He smiled and returned his eyes to the 20x spotting scope he had brought up from the Delta's supply-Hummer parked near the station's motor pool. "Why don't you go downstairs for a little while? I can't see any more targets up here and if I do, I think the rest of us up here can handle it."  
  
"Fine. If you need another sniper, I should be down around the TOC." Miyuki crouched and dashed over to the stairwell and quickly descended. Just because they couldn't see any enemy snipers around the building didn't mean that there weren't any there. Presenting a target while up on the roof wasn't the wisest decision one could make at the moment.  
  
At the Tactical Operations Center, Miyuki found that the Americans had boarded up the doorway. To allow entry, they also had blown down a portion of a rear wall, which now conveniently opened into an inside hallway. "Hello, Captain."  
  
The Marine Corps company commander turned around at the sound of Miyuki's voice. "Ah, Officer Kobayakawa. How is the sniping going on up stairs? I hope you're doing well."  
  
"Just fine, sir. But I did just want to point out in case you didn't receive the message from Sergeant Smith that the enemy is moving heavy guns onto the surrounding buildings to try and shoot down your helicopters."  
  
"Yes, I am aware of that. I received the message. Thanks. Right now I can't do much about them unless you and the rest of the snipers get clear shots at them. I can't use mortars or air support on them because I cannot be sure if there are any civilians in those buildings, so my hands are tied. Unless there is a clear shot from a personal weapon, be a machine gun or rifle, I am not authorized to attack those buildings." Surai sighed and leaned against a table. "Oh, by the way, your friend, Officer Tsujimoto, was here a couple minutes ago. She said she was looking for you, as per your department commander's orders."  
  
"Oh, really? Thank you, sir. Did she say where she was going?" Miyuki wondered why the chief had sent Natsumi for her.  
  
Vincent Surai let out a small laugh. "Yes, I told her you were up on the roof sniping. You must have taken different routes." Smiling, he straightened up and walked over to where one of his radiomen was motioning that there was a radio call. "She only left right before you came in. You can probably catch her in the stairs."  
  
"All right, thank you, Captain." Miyuki left the TOC. 'Wonderful. If I don't, she's going to see I'm not up there, and Smith will tell her I'm in the TOC, and we'll probably take different routes again, end up at the different places, get told to go back, miss each other... Damn.' She held her MP-5 sub-machine gun with her right hand with the shoulder stock resting against he upper arm. Since it was one of the few inside stairwells in the building that could not be seen at all from the outside, she stood erect as she walked slowly up. Above her in the stairwell, she heard footsteps. "Hey, Natsumi!"  
  
"Miyuki? Is that you?" Natsumi peered over the edge of the railing, faintly making out her partner a few stories below her.  
  
"Yeah. Come back down here." The black-haired officer supported herself against the wall as Natsumi descended the few flights. "Why does the Chief want me?"  
  
Natsumi shook her head. "He wants us to check on everyone from Traffic and see how they're doing. He said he'd do it himself, except I was 'fidgeting' so much that he knew I needed something to do. I can't believe he said that." She made quotation marks with her fingers when she got to fidgeting. "Except he's right."  
  
"Okay... Well, do we even know where anyone is?" Ken is on the second floor. Yoriko and Aoi are down in the cafeteria with the remaining civilians and some of the wounded. I think that..." They walked and talked, checking on each member of the Traffic Department that they could find. It was hard to hear that another officer, Hiro Yamata, had been killed earlier during the lull.  
  
Ken was taking the death of Ichiro fine, for the moment, they found. He was continuing to focus on what had to be done, and that was to protect the station and the remaining occupants. "I'm fine, really. I'll think about it when the time comes. Besides, I've got a promise to keep. And if I don't pay attention now, I may never get to keep that promise." He sent his two female colleagues on their way and continued to hold the line with the other police officers and the Americans.  
  
"These are people that I saw alive just hours ago, Natsumi." Miyuki was sitting in a chair on the first floor. The two had made their sweep of the building, accounting for every Traffic Department officer that they could find. Downstairs they had mentioned to some of the Administration officers and both Yoriko and Aoi that the troops up above could use water, as a lot of troops were running low, having not packed much. "Yamata... We hardly even knew him and he's already gone. So is Ichiro. I know Ken feels terrible about him dying."  
  
Natsumi just stared at the floor, incessantly tapping the stock of her rifle. "And more will go before this is all over." She sighed. "Ugh! If only we knew what this was all about! No matter how much I think about it, I cannot figure out why they are doing this. So many times in the past, what," she looked at her watch. The face was cracked. ", 16 hours of my life I've stopped to try and figure this all out and each time I've come up with nothing. Even with everything Arleigh and that guy told us, it still doesn't make sense. Why use a force like this? They got a small group in here to kidnap us, why not do that to get whatever they need? So much simpler. Are they trying to prove a point or something?"  
  
"I would guess. I can see terrorists doing that, but the involvement of an entire brigade of JSDF troops and equipment doesn't go along with that. There has to be something behind the 'plan' that has the JSDF in on this." Stretching her arms, Miyuki yawned and continued to think.  
  
The two rose and returned to Natsumi and the Chief's position at the back of the station, still keeping down to avoid being shot at from the terrorist's positions across the road. "Yamata was killed, Chief." Miyuki broke the news to him.  
  
"Damn." The Chief felt like melting into the floor. Two officers down. "How did it happen?"  
  
"Apparently during the lull, he was cleaning his weapon and a terrorist took some random shots at the station. A bullet ricocheted off of a metal beam and struck him in the head. The medics said he was dead instantly. He didn't feel a thing." Natsumi gave the explanation.  
  
The Chief rubbed his face, attempting to maintain his composure. "All right, thank you for the update. And I trust that that is the only bad news you have to bring about the rest of my officers?"  
  
"Yes, sir. Everyone else seems to be fine and uninjured."  
  
"Very well, Kobayakawa." He glanced down. "There is one thing else I'd like you two to do for me."  
  
"Yes, sir?"  
  
"Just make sure that you two make it out of this thing alive. I don't think I could bear to see either of you go down. You know, you two cause me more trouble than anyone else I have ever served with."  
  
Miyuki and Natsumi both scowled at that part.  
  
Frowning, he continued. "Hey, don't take that the wrong way."  
  
"Oh, really, how could I, sir?" Miyuki said, narrowing her eyes  
  
"I mean that because you do, I have a special attachment for the both of you. When this is all over and everything returns to normal, well, it wouldn't be normal without the two of you. You cause me trouble, but you two are some of the best officers I've ever met."  
  
"Aw, thanks Chief." Natsumi beamed and winked at her commanding officer. "That's so sweet."  
  
The Chief smiled, adding wryly, "Right now, though, I need you two to go down to the cafeteria and get me some food. I'm starving. I haven't eaten in forever." He laughed.  
  
"Sure. Butter us up before sending us on the menial job." Miyuki shook her head and smirked. "Why us? You just said we cause you more trouble. Aren't you afraid we'll bring you back something terrible?"  
  
"Hey, you're the only ones from Traffic around. I can't really send any other officers and certainly not an American down to get me something to eat." Shrugging, he added, "Besides, after today, not much could taste very bad. Stuff like this makes you put everything into perspective, even food you used to hate. Like peas for example. I'd settle for peas. And I hate peas." The Chief continued to laugh lightly as the two officers turned around and made their way to an inner hallway and down an enclosed stairwell.  
  
"I say we test this theory out. Let's get him all the peas we can find." Natsumi snickered as they continued down the stairs.  
  
Miyuki replied, "How are we going to cook them? They cut the gas lines, remember?" She thought a bit more, then added, "Well, actually, the microwaves might still work."  
  
  
  
  
  
Colonel Nakatani turned to Lieutenant Tanaka. "The radio, Lieutenant." Taking the receiver from his aid's hand, the Japanese officer thumbed the talk-button on and spoke. "All JSDF forces, attack. Smash those walls. Kill anything that gets in your way. I want that building by dawn!"  
  
The Colonel received acknowledgements from all of his battalion commanders and they did likewise with their company commanders, and the process repeated down to the squad level. Coordinating with the terrorist forces, the JSDF troops would now make their biggest attack so far on Bokuto Station. It would involve tanks, APCs, technicals, and waves of troops. Virtually everything that wasn't committed to either holding the bridges or attacking Delta Five-One's position was involved in the attack. They would storm the building and take the remaining set of plans, and then they would have the final piece of code to unlock all the plans. The terrorists would have what they want, and soon after Nakatani would have his revenge.  
  
"This had better work." Nakatani sat down and waited for the first news to come back from the advancing units.  
  
  
  
  
  
Kachou lit up a cigarette and returned the lighter to his pocket. 'Okay, so maybe I still wouldn't go for peas. I wonder what food is left down there?' He had only taken a few drags before an Army Private down the hall yelled that he saw a technical. That soldier made the mistake of standing up slightly to point the vehicle out. Instantly, an enemy sniper's round tore into his forehead, killing the soldier.  
  
"Return fire!" yelled Army 2nd Lieutenant Steve Vrabel of the 25th Infantry Division. "Enemies, moving in from the two o'clock! More coming from the 11 o'clock! Take out their RPGs first!"  
  
Kachou threw the cigarette up and out the window before grabbing his AK. He flicked off the safety and began searching for a target. He saw a group of machine guns firing from a third-story string of windows across the field and trees from the station. Popping off several single shots, Kachou wondered how many more attacks would come before the station was relieved by the Americans gearing up outside the ward. 'This building is going to crumble if it takes anymore RPGs,' he thought sarcastically.  
  
An intense firefight erupted all around the station. The enemy had quietly slipped in close to the station, using buildings as cover, even destroying walls between buildings so they wouldn't have to expose themselves on the streets. Hundreds of assault rifles, machine guns, pistols, rockets, and grenade launchers began to chew away at the station and its defenders. The volume of fire coming back from the station, even with all the officers, Marines, and Army personnel, was no match for what they were receiving in the largest attack.  
  
  
  
  
  
Down along the service road, Marine First Lieutenant Tray Phelps was barking orders as his mortar team while listening to aiming corrections coming in over the radio. "Tubes one and two, up 10, left 5! Tubes three and four, down 5, left 20! Tubes five and six, up 10, right 10!" He continued listening. "All hits good! Fire for effect! Ten salvos H-E! Tubes seven and eight, load illum' [illumination] rounds, charge four [highest level of propellant]!"  
  
Coordinating with the Army mortar teams, Phelps tried to keep his mortars firing only in a specific zone and not overlapping into an Army zone, thus wasting fire that was better suited elsewhere along the line.  
  
"Keep 'em going, keep 'em going!" The Marines cycled their mortars are fast as they could. The tubes were beginning to grow warmer and warmer. Soon the mortar tubes would be too hot to fire out of fear that the heat would cook off a round in the tube. More and more 81-mm rounds jumped out of the tubes and arced high before curving over and hurtling down at their targets.  
  
Phelps continued bouncing in and out of the four groups of mortars he commanded, followed closely by his RTO [radio/telephone operator]. "Tubes five and six, redirect fire up 5, left 10!" Noticing that the tubes were running low on ammunition, he raced back and forth between the truck they had arrived on and the tubes, delivering three or four rounds at a time.  
  
Even as the Marines continued to rain down as much fire as they possibly could on the enemy, they could not even slow down the attack. Even in conjunction with a renewed air attack from Air Force fighter- bombers, Army and Marine gunships, and Navy artillery, the mortars could not stop the attack. As Phelps listened for the new aiming corrections, he couldn't have known what was about to happen to him and the rest of the mortar platoon of Alfa Company.  
  
  
  
  
  
About a kilometer from the station, Keiji Hatana sat in the driver's seat of a technical. His brother had recruited him into the Japanese Martyrs Brigade. He hadn't had any particular reason for joining. Keiji just had romanticized the thought of an outlaw group doing battle with an established evil, like the Americans, he had thought. Now he realized that there was nothing to romanticize about battle. He was actually about to do something that would most likely get him killed.  
  
"Keiji, you have to do this. They will probably shoot at you, but you have to stay focused. The entire mission depends on you." His cell commander patted him on the shoulder. "Good luck, my friend."  
  
"Yes, sir." And with that, Keiji stepped on the gas pedal and sped off. He had the headlights out and had taped over all the dashboard lights. Using the light coming from the firefight ahead and the illumination rounds being launched by the American mortar teams, he flew headlong towards the station. The entire bed of the truck was laden with explosives attached to a simple timed fuse. He had a minute to reach the station from the time the wheels started moving. With ten seconds left, he prepared to jump. Grabbing his rifle and making sure the wheel was as straight as possible, he dove from the open door of the technical. He hit the ground hard, but the extra few coats he had worn took a good portion of the blow. He had hardly felt much, because all he was listening for was the explosion. And then it went off.  
  
The pickup plowed right through the wall of the station flipped to one side as it got hung up on the debris. After only a second, the fuse burned down to nothing and detonated the entire bed of explosives. The explosion completely obliterated the wall, sending chunks of concrete the size of Natsumi's Moto-compo at the station. Around the station, more explosive-laden technicals hit the wall, collapsing it. From all the buildings the enemy occupied, terrorists and JSDF personnel poured out and began rushing the station. The series of explosions had almost completely stopped fire from the station after men were thrown to the ground or hit by flying debris.  
  
  
  
  
  
The debris from Keiji's technical had hit the Marine mortars hard. All the crew members from tubes one-through-four had been killed or knocked unconscious, since the technical had broken through the wall only about 25 meters from their position. First Lieutenant Tray Phelps slowly pushed himself off the ground. Next to him, his RTO rubbed his bloody forehead and face and moaned loudly. Phelps felt around for his rifle and picked it up. He couldn't hear anything, not even his RTO screaming in his ear that they he had been hit. The explosion had deafened him. But he was able to feel the rumble of the ground as the rushing waves of enemies came closer.  
  
The entire wall that had once shielded his mortar team was gone. It had collapsed from the explosion. As Phelps looked up, he could see enemies running from the buildings and towards the station. He brought up his M4A1, flicked it over to full automatic and began firing. Anything that moved he knew was an enemy. Rounds from the enemy weapons began to pelt the debris he was leaning heavily against while he fired. The remaining members of his mortar platoon tried mightily to bring up their weapons and return fire, but they could not do much. Just before the Marines were completely overrun, Phelps grabbed the radio handset. "This is Alpha Four- Six, we're being overrun! They've breached the perimeter!" And that was the last thing Tray Phelps ever said as terrorist smashed him in the face with a rifle and then executed the Marine officer with a burst of shots to the heart.  
  
  
  
QUESTIONS & COMMENTS: Bravo26Flashpointyahoo.com 


	14. Holding the Fort

**The Siege**

**Chapter 14: Holding the Fort**

By JagdPanther

Officer Miyuki Kobayakawa picked herself up off of the floor following the string of massive explosions that had occurred just outside the station. Debris was everywhere, knocked loose by the shock waves. A few lighting fixtures were dangling from the ceiling above her. One loose wire was twitching about in a pool of water steadily growing from a shattered pipe. All around her, stunned defenders were slowly recovering and beginning to return fire. The ringing in her ears was fading and shouts began to filter into her mind.

"Jake's hit! Jake's hit! Pull him out!"

"Enemies advancing! Shoot anything out there! They're all bad guys!"

"My leg! My leg! God, it hurts!"

"The Lieutenant is dead! Where's sarge!?"

"Myers! Plug his wound! Keep talking to him, don't let him go into shock!"

"Shut up! Just shut up! Fire your weapon, Clay!"

"Enemies inside the perimeter! They're breaking through! Radio! Radio! Get Captain Surai on the line; we've got enemies inside the wall! Third Platoon, forget the ones outside, everyone down the stairs! We need to reinforce the entrances!" Army Second Lieutenant Steve Vrabel jumped to his feet and began rallying his men. With the handful of men who had immediately reacted to the order, Vrabel plunged into the stairwell and down to ground level. He met the few still-capable defenders, a mix of Marines, Army troops, and police, pouring all the fire they could out of the doors and windows at enemies rushing. A pair of GP-40 grenades flew through the door, detonating beside Vrabel's platoon sergeant. The Staff Sergeant was hit bad, but his body had shielded Vrabel. The officer barely had noticed when a rifle round tore through his left shoulder, knocking him back into the crater-filled wall. Shrugging off the incredible pain, he brought up his rifle and began firing. He denied medical attention when his medic grabbed him by the web-gear, motioning for the Specialist to take care of the unconscious platoon sergeant.

Miyuki was nowhere near Natsumi. Realizing that her partner wasn't there, Miyuki called out for her, but received only shouts and gunfire in return. Shaking the last of the cobwebs from her mind, she clambered down the stairs after the last American from Vrabel's platoon. She knew that once the enemies were inside the building, they could get into the lower levels with ease where all the civilians were, completely undefended. Continuing down past he first level, she heard the grenades exploding near the entrance and an American scream that he'd been hit. Knowing that she had to get to the civilians, she tried to disregard it and went the last flight down to the cafeteria. Miyuki came face to face with Aoi, blood running down her forehead. "Aoi! You're bleeding!"

"I am? Oh! I didn't even feel it!" She felt the warm liquid as it ran down the bridge of her nose.

Miyuki grabbed the other woman by the arm and took her back along the halls, past the cafeteria doors. Inside, some other police officers, including Yoriko, along with some cooler-headed civilians were trying to calm the frantic people. Miyuki and Aoi stopped near a Marine machine-gunner with an M240 medium-machine-gun setting up the bi-pod. He and a few other Marines who had been down in the basement grabbing stored ammunition were preparing a hasty defense for the lower levels, covering all routes from the surface above. "Aoi, you have to go back in there and keep the civilians from panicking. We'll keep the floor defended, just get back in there." Shooing the other officer back into the large cafeteria, she brought up her MP5 and made sure it was loaded properly.

Moving back to the hallway where she had come down, she took up position in a doorway and braced herself against the doorjamb, leveling the submachine gun at the stairwell she had just come down a few moments before. Holding her fire, she let a group of Americans plod down the stairs and the hallway past her carrying an unconscious Staff Sergeant, his back ripped to shreds by an explosive.

"They're blowin' us away! They're inside the building!" screamed one of he Army troops, trying to maintain his grip on the sergeant's leg. Almost as soon as he finished, a Japanese grenade tumbled down the stairs and into the hallway. Miyuki ducked back inside the doorway as it went off, sending shrapnel in every direction. She popped back out just as a pair of terrorists blundered into the hallway, firing AKs wildly. Taking aim, she dropped both with short bursts to the chest.

In the other direction, from another stairwell, more terrorists and Japanese soldiers tried to take the hallway, but the Marines and Miyuki held the advantage of defending a fixed position. The Marine gunner opened fire with his machine gun, having seen a head pop out from cover and quickly disappear. The large .30 calibre rounds gouged holes in the wall of the stairwell, showering concrete fragments over the enemies. Miyuki suppressed a pair of Japanese soldiers at her stairwell with her submachine gun, firing 4-round bursts into the wall near the opening of the stairwell.

A smoke grenade rolled into the hallway and burst, filling the corridor in white smoke. Miyuki quickly reloaded her weapon and sent a few bursts into the smoke to interdict anyone trying to advance through it. She heard someone in Japanese yell, "Grenade!" and saw a small, black object arc out of the smoke and land near her feet. It skidded through her legs and rebounded off the door behind her, bouncing like a pinball into the room. She dove out into the hall as the grenade went off. Fortunately, she was out of direct-line from the grenade and none of the fragments reached her. Immediately, she saw two black forms come through the smoke, and she opened fire. But firing from the irregular position and threw off her aim, and she completely missed both targets. The slide clicked back, signaling an empty magazine, and she desperately tried to grab her pistol, but it wasn't in its holster. Before she could do anything else, the Japanese troops were on top of her.

Seemingly in slow motion, one of the soldiers began shifting her rifle down at Miyuki. Frantically scrambling to her left, she tried to get back into the room she had used as cover, but she knew she would never make it. All of the sudden, the soldier to the right of the one trying to kill her was lifted off of his feet and slammed back down into the ground. The other soldier whipped his head up and saw a Navy Corpsman charging him with a pistol. Before he could even react, the Corpsman tackled him. The Navy medical man brought up his Beretta pistol while straddling the enemy and shot him twice in the forehead. Then the Corpsman rolled to his right and grabbed one of the Japanese soldier's Type-89 rifles, swung it up, and fired the rifle into the smoke at three more black shapes coming through. Miyuki backed away from the Corpsman as he fired. She couldn't take her eyes off the limp Japanese soldier that the American had just executed.

A Marine rushed up the Corpsman and grabbed him by the shoulder. "Doc! Get your ass back here! We don't need to lose our medics! We'll take care of these guys, just get back to the aid station." The Marine Corporal forcefully shoved the Navy Corpsman back and took up position in the doorway Miyuki had held. He fired his M-16A2 on burst-mode into the dissipating smoke.

Miyuki was still stunned, lying on the ground, when the Marine noticed her and pulled her back into the room. "Are you all right! Talk to me!" he shouted, not looking at her, but still aiming down his rifle towards the far end of the hall. "You okay?"

She shook her head from side to side and tried to clear her thoughts, but the site of an execution right before her wouldn't go away. "Yes, I think so." Groggily, she got back up onto her knees and reloaded her MP5, still looking at the dead Japanese in the hall.

"Good! You have to take over, here. I can't stay. I have to go help defend the other stairwells. We don't have enough people down here, you have to help!" And with that, he jumped up, turned around, and sprinted down the hallway, a few shots from a terrorist at the stairs followed him down the corridor.

Realizing that she had a job to do, she brought up her weapon and returned some of the fire, but she wasn't as into the fight as she had been before. 'No, I can't think about that! He was trying to kill me and that American saved me. I can't think about it like he was defenseless. Damnit! Back to work!'

Another grenade rolled into the hallway, and again she ducked inside the room for cover. Once again after it had exploded, she leaned back out and fired in defense of the hall. It was just her and six Marines defending the entire lower level of the station.

Up two floors, Natsumi Tsujimoto shoved the ceiling tiles off of her. When the explosions had occurred, ceiling tiles had collapsed all along the hall, covering her. Regaining her senses, she tried to locate Miyuki, but she wasn't around. Now on her knees, Natsumi checked her rifle to make sure that it was still in working order, and made her way to the window to return fire. Peering over the edge, she saw enemy troops rushing the building. Some technicals were approaching, firing their .51 calibre machine guns at the building, trying to suppress the few defenders manning the line at the moment.

Bringing up her rifle, she fired several bursts into the advancing mass. Quickly, she was forced to dive for cover as massive amounts of return fire began to center around her. An officer from Riot-Control pulled her back from the window.

"Don't do that. They'll rush the entrances. Go cover the stairwells. Let the Americans drop grenades on the ones outside and call in air support. Just keep them from getting up here." The officer let her go and made his way down the line to a couple other police officers trying to do the same thing Natsumi had done. "Keep back from the windows! They'll nail you! Stay in cover!"

Some Army personnel were crouching before the inside walls and arcing hand grenades out the windows down onto the rushing enemies below. Unfortunately, enemy hand grenades were flying up at the windows in increasing numbers. Everyone took whatever cover they could when the explosive balls began littering the hallway and started detonating. Natsumi crawled behind a doorway just as a grenade plunked down where she had stood before. It exploded without causing any harm to her, but sent shrapnel screaming down the hallway. Outside, she heard a police officer scream that he was hit. She peered out and saw the riot-control officer rolling back and forth on his stomach. His back was ripped to shreds.

Braving another volley of RPGs from across the street and more grenades flying in the windows, Natsumi rushed out into the hallway. "Come on!" she yelled, grabbing the officer by his arms and dragging him into the room she had been in. An RPG exploded in the hallway, completely obliterating the next room over. Ceiling tiles collapsed and light fixtures swung free in her room. Figuring the back of the room was safer, Natsumi pushed the officer under a table to shield him from debris. "Just hang on! I'm going to go get help."

"No, no! Stay in here, I'll be okay. You'll get killed if you go back out there. I'll be fine, don't you worry." The officer managed a faint smile, but it quickly disappeared when a new surge of pain washed over the man. "Water, I just need some water. That's all." He kept expanding and closing his fist, trying to do something to keep his mind off of the pain, but there was really nothing he could do to forget about the 10 pieces of shrapnel.

Natsumi unhooked her canteen from her belt and unscrewed the cap. Handing it to the officer, she said, "Here. Drink as much as you want." She knew that he needed help fast. "I don't care. You need help right now. I'm going to go, anyway. Just stay put." Without waiting to hear another objection, she quickly ducked out of the room and sprinted down the hall as fast as she could and as low as she could. She found a sizeable portion of the Americans clustered in the stairwells, dropping grenades down between the gaps in the flights of stairs and firing their rifles down at terrorists and JSDF troops trying to go up the stairs. Turning down one of the inner hallways, she found the aide station for that floor. Inside there were many wounded men from the bomb attacks and grenade volleys. All of the medics were frantically working to save as many as they could, but they were running out of medical supplies in a hurry. She could see that if the officer were going to get medical attention, she'd have to bring him here.

Without a second thought, she rushed back out into the hallway and back to the room. She found the riot-control officer still under the table. Except he was already dead by the time she returned, feeling for his pulse and finding none. He was still clutching the canteen in his left hand, but there was something different that she couldn't place her finger on. She went around to the other side of the table. The officer's eyes were still open and he was staring at a picture of his wife and two daughters. It had fallen from his grip and was lying on the floor. Carefully, she rolled him onto his back, closed his eyes, and folded his right arm over his chest, slipping the picture into his fingers in the process.

For the second time during the siege, Natsumi felt the urge to curl up into a ball and cry. But the grenade explosions and gunfire raging just outside the door kept her from doing so. She took the ammo from the officer's web-gear, since the ammo happened to be for Type-89 rifles, and restocked her own ammunition pouches. Before leaving the room, she made an objective list of what she had to do. 'Objective One: Find Chief. Objective Two: Find Ken. Objective Three: Find Miyuki. Overall Objective: Defend the station from being overrun.' She took a deep breath. 'The Chief should be one floor up on this side of the building. Take the inner stairwell, it's fifteen meters to the left outside the door. All right, here goes nothing.'

The brown-haired female Traffic cop ran out the door, dodging around debris as she went. She saw a grenade land on the floor in front of her, and quickly she stopped and thrust her legs back, tripping over a piece of a joist and falling flat on her back. The grenade never went off. It was a dud. Natsumi wiped her forehead, staring at the grenade, wondering if it detonate while she was still lying there, but another police officer, one of the ones the riot-control officer had yelled at earlier, crawled out a door next to her and grabbed her by the web-gear, dragging her inside.

"Hey! Don't just lie there! You'll get killed." He motioned for her to come deeper into the room where it was safer. Inside, there was a Marine and an Army grenadier tending to another police officer. He had taken a piece of shrapnel from an RPG to the left shoulder. The officer was biting on a folded up rag and grunting loudly as one of the Marines tried to hold him down. The Army Private, First Class used a pair of forceps from his small aid kit to remove the shrapnel, which was sticking out of the officer's shoulder. Removing the piece, he deposited it on the ground and began putting a field dressing around the wound to stem the bleeding. "You are fine. You are fine," the Army soldier said in simple, but understandable Japanese. He tightened the dressing down and patted the officer on the shoulder.

Natsumi looked back at the officer who had dragged her into the room. "No, I have to go out there. I need to find the people from my department." She got an incredulous look from her fellow police officer. "Don't ask. I just have to." Checking her rifle, she started to crawl back to the door.

"Wait," called the officer. "Here, take these." He handed her a couple grenades. "You're going to need them. Try not to expose yourself if you need to fire. There's too many of them."

She took the grenades and thanked the officer, and then she left. It was only a couple meters to the hallway with an inner stairwell. In a fast low-crawl, she moved into the hallway and to the stairwell. Already a few Americans were there covering it, making sure no one was coming up. Before the soldiers could react and stop her, she burst past them and ran up the stairs to the next landing, where she came face-to-face with four rifle barrels. A Marine radio-operator grabbed her and dragged her into the hallway. "Don't do that! Do you want us to kill you?" Not caring if she had understood him or not, the Marine turned back to covering the stairwell. Behind him, a Marine Lieutenant was calling for the TOC and Captain Surai, but he wasn't getting an answer.

"There's nothing at all! I can't raise anyone! Rich, take the radio off of your back. You sure this thing didn't get hit by shrapnel or debris?" The Lieutenant removed the radio from Lance Corporal Rich Mercaw's back. "Damnit." He pressed his finger into a dime-sized hole in the side of the radio. "We can't contact anyone. I need to find another radio."

Natsumi got back into a crouch and moved down to the end of the hall. She peeked around the corner and saw no one left in the hall, at least not alive. There was a dead Army trooper about fifteen meters away, multiple grenades having completely collapsed the walls behind him. Just then, she saw two figures dart out from the rubble of the walls and hoist the soldier onto their shoulders and jump back into the rubble. 'Chief?'

Quickly moving down the hall, she flicked her rifle over to full-automatic and sprayed rounds down while she ran, hoping she hit something. Diving into the rubble, she found the Chief and several Army soldiers huddled behind debris and over-turned tables. One Army soldier was collecting grenades from his buddies and beginning to fling them out the windows, several meters away. 'Objective One: Completed.' "Chief!" Natsumi dropped behind the table with the Kachou. "Found you!"

"Where's Miyuki?" he yelled over the din.

"I don't know. We got separated when the bombs hit. I was trying to find you, Ken, and Miyuki. Found you, so that's one down." She reloaded her rifle while she talked.

"Why did you come looking for us?" a quizzical expression coming across his face. "You came all the way back here through hell just to find me?"

Cocking her head to the side, she thought for a moment. "I have no idea why. There was another officer, and, he, well he saved my life. I was doing something dumb and he stopped me. Then he got wounded; I helped him, and went for a medic. But by the time I got back, he was dead. He died looking at a picture of his wife and kids. I just... I just... I couldn't think of anything else but finding my friends. I don't want to see anyone else die." Looking at the dead Army trooper in the room, she shook her head. "But I guess that won't be the case."

"Tsujimoto, I understand that it's hard. But we still have our jobs to do. I'm glad you're looking for everyone. If we get everyone together, we'll all have a better chance at survival." Unslinging his AK-74, he flipped it over to full automatic. "To tell you the truth, I wanted to do the same thing. I don't want to lose any of my best officers anymore than you want to lose your friends. So let's go. Where do you think the closest one is?"

"I think Ken is down one floor, at the front of the station."

"Then let's head there. Keep your head down and move fast." The Chief took Natsumi over to the door and they waited for one of the Army soldiers to toss an M67 fragmentation grenade out the window. Then they rushed down the hallway, low and fast, to the first inner hallway with a stairwell. Once again they found the same group of Americans covering the door. Shuffling past them again, Natsumi bounded down the steps with the Chief. They came out onto the next floor and made their way towards the front of the building through a winding hallway. Along the way they passed groups of police and Americans covering stairwells. The most remote of the stairwells was still being used to ferry troops down to the lower levels to help. Troops above that level were either heading down to the ground levels to help defend the building or heading all the way up to the top to help interdict the enemies still in the streets around the station. They came out to the front of hallway.

RPGs had completely blown away sections of walls. Large portions of the hallway were clearly visible from the outside. There were no police or Americans in the hallway. Crouching at the end of the inner hallway, the Chief and Natsumi tried to decide what to do. "There's no way we can traverse this. We'll be mincemeat." Checking his rifle to make sure it was on automatic, Kachou surveyed the broken floor and decimated wall.

To their side, two sets of arms reached out and dragged them through a doorway. "Don't stay out there. It's a death trap." Natsumi and Kachou looked up to see Ken and another officer.

"Ken! We were just coming for you." Natsumi got up off her butt and came to a kneeling position. "What happened out there?"

"When the bombs went off, they started throwing everything they could at us. RPGs, heavy machine guns, grenades, everything. There's a pair of APCs sitting out there firing their 35mm cannons at anything that moves on the first few floors. A tank is somewhere, but we can't see it, and it's firing what the Americans are calling armor-piercing darts, which is as near as they can describe it in Japanese to me. They don't explode, but they still plow through anything they touch. Apparently, they can't call air or artillery onto them because no one can see them, they're too afraid to stick their heads up long enough to find out." He leaned back against a wall and listened to the gunfire from below. "They must be having a hell of a time down there. We were going to go down and help, but a couple Marines wouldn't let us go down. They stopped us. They're only letting Americans go down to the lower levels."

Natsumi blurted out, "What? No way. We're heading down there to find Aoi and Yoriko and make sure they're all right. I got separated from Miyuki earlier. I have no idea where she is. Why aren't they letting you down?"

"I don't know. Only Americans are heading down. Well, not even that. They're only letting a few Americans down, too, the rest they're sending back up."

Kachou spoke up. "They don't want to overcrowd the stairwells and have friendly forces shooting at each other. That's why. The enemies are probably all over the first floor by now. We're probably only holding the stairwells, the upper levels, and maybe the basement. Maybe. We want to go down there and find out, though."

"How are we going to get down?" asked the other officer, Hideki Honda, another Traffic officer. "The Americans still won't let us go down. We probably won't even be able to get past the guards on any of the stairwells up here."

"Have to try," said Natsumi. "The only stairwell we can use is that one back along the route that we came that the Americans are using to get people up and down between the levels. I think they still hold the ground floor of that one."

"Let's go, then. No sense in sitting here. Can't do anything about the enemies who are below us from this room." Honda got up from his crouch and moved to the door. As soon as he got to the door, 35mm round came slicing through the room, blowing chucks of wallboard everywhere. He dove for the ground near the doorway, and was almost run over by an American plowing through the door.

"Damn! That was fun!" He had just run down the hall, getting shot at by the Type-89 APCs all the way. "Made it in once piece, too!" Sitting down, Delta Sergeant AJ Carlson unscrewed the cap from his canteen and took a sip. Carlson looked at the four officers in the room, and noted that they all wielded weapons. "All right, I need all of you to come with me. We need to reinforce the bottom floor. The enemies aren't even trying to come upstairs. They're just trying to get downstairs," he said in perfect Japanese. "Let's go!"

Natsumi shrugged and followed the Delta Force man out the door. She was followed closely by her compatriots as they made their way down the inner hallway and back to the only stairwell held on all levels by the defenders.

"Move out of the way, guys, I'm taking them down to reinforce the basement," Carlson bellowed at the Marines holding the doorway. "Move it." He led them downstairs. Passing the first floor, they all saw a pair of Army soldiers keeping watch with two light machine guns along with a Marine with an M-16A2.

One of the Army soldiers opened up with his S.A.W. at a target that had presented itself at the end of the hallway. "Die, damnit! Get away from this friggin' door!"

"This is all our defense right here? Damn. All right, let's keep going." The D-Boy's calm under the pressure amazed the four cops he had in tow.

On the basement level they found the new reinforcements that had already come down. A rag-tag squad of Marines, Army troopers, and police was covering all the doors and open stairwells leading up. Carlson deposited Honda with a group of Marines near where they had come down. "In case the enemies get though to this stairwell, you stay here and help defend it." Continuing on, Carlson deposited Ken and Kachou at the far end of the hall from Miyuki, except no one knew Miyuki was down there. Approaching Miyuki's position, Carlson said, "Hey, isn't that your partner over there?"

Sure enough, Miyuki was propped up against the same door, only now there were two Army troopers and Delta Sergeant, First Class Chris Stevens helping her. They had moved some debris out into the hallway to use as cover. Pieces of studs, slabs of drywall, a desk, some overturned filing cabinets, and even a couple computer towers formed the wall.

"Miyuki!" Natsumi yelped, upon noticing her partner, covered in concrete dust that had been blown free of the walls by grenades and gunfire. "How did you get down here?" Miyuki's usually velvety black hair was a terrible mix of white, gray, and a few patches of black visible through the dust.

"After I got separated from you, I just came down here," she replied, sliding back down behind the debris to cover her while she wiped her forehead.

"Yo! Carlson!" Stevens whooped, catching the movement out of the corner of his eye. "Glad you found me some help. Those bastards keep trying this stairwell." Almost to prove his statement, a JSDF soldier stuck his rifle around the corner and sprayed a few shots wildly. "I'm out, give me a grenade."

AJ Carlson handed his fellow Delta operator a fragmentation grenade. Taking the grenade, Stevens pulled the pin and let the spoon fly off. He cooked the grenade, let the fuse burn, for four seconds before rapidly throwing the ball of explosives at the stairwell entrance. The grenade forcefully ricocheted off of the wall and bounced slightly up the stairs and then detonated. By cooking the grenade, Stevens eliminated the possibility of it being thrown back. Two dead JSDF troops slumped out into the hall from the blast.

The minutes dragged on, with the defenders repulsing every attempt to take the lower level of the station. Of course, it was only a matter of time before the superior-in-numbers enemy force began to take the upper hand.

"Colonel Nakatani, sir, the troops are reporting that they have successfully entered the station. They currently hold the ground-level floor of the station, but the Americans and remaining police are tenaciously holding onto the basement and upper floors. The stairwells have become death traps for the men." Lieutenant Tanaka was standing beside Nakatani as he watched the night sky from the window. "The troops are attempting to cut through the floors of the ground level to reach the basement."

"Very well. Just make sure they know from the building plans what they're standing over. I don't want those plans damaged. I do not want to go through this entire siege and then lose the plans because some imbecile can't figure out that he's standing over a room that isn't even supposed to exist in that building."

"Yes, sir."

Sighing, he continued. "And what is the status of the fight against that small group of Americans away from the station?"

"Still not very good, sir. They are continuing to hold on tightly to their position while using artillery and air support as shield. Every time we try to assault the position with heavy weapons, they are immediately targeted and destroyed."

"They must move closer. Get so close that the Americans cannot use their support any more. Grab them by the belt-buckle and do not let go."

"Yes, sir."

Around 0220 Hours that morning, Officer Hideki Honda was sitting up against a wall. He was near a turn in the hallway, which led to the East side of the basement in the station, where Carlson had brought the Japanese police down. The turn down here was mirrored one level up, where the hallway made the same turn directly above. Unbeknownst to the Americans guarding that stairwell above, there were several terrorists and JSDF troops just around the corner and above in the hallway preparing C-4 plastic explosive blocks for action.

Laying strips in a circular fashion, the enemy soldiers tied them all together with det-cord and strung it back down the hallway to another turn. This would be the test breach to see if the method that a JSDF Lieutenant had come up with would work. If anything, at least it would kill some Americans, he thought. Attaching the cord to a detonation module, the Lieutenant shooed his men and the terrorists back into cover, and twisted the handle.

One floor below, Hideki Honda jumped halfway out of his skin as a huge section of floor was blown down several meters away and around the turn in the hallway. A Marine Sergeant immediately regained his balance from the shock of the explosion and rushed around the corner just in time to see a couple of grenades plop down through the gaping hole in the ceiling. "Holy Mother! Grenade!" he screamed, backpedaling around the corner.

Both grenades went off, sending debris and shrapnel everywhere. The Sergeant took one of his own grenades, cooked it, and bounced it off the far wall from where it went down the hall. It exploded in time to catch a terrorist diving through the hole. He was immediately thrown back, but two JSDF troops who were still above missed the explosion and were unharmed. They jumped down through the hole. Both soldiers recovered from the fall and turned to go back towards the corner and subsequently to the stairs and up. If they could flank the Americans covering the stairs, they could open up a floodgate of JSDF troops to go down into the basement.

Honda came next to the Marine Sergeant who was waiting at the corner. The Marine Sergeant readied his rifle to fire, but just as the first JSDF soldier cleared the corner, the rifle jammed. "Shit!" The JSDF soldier brought up his rifle and put three rounds into the Marine's chest, instantly killing him. His body was flung back into Honda, who couldn't deal with the sudden weight on him, and was pressed down to the floor. The other two Marines opened fire, dropping the first JSDF soldier. But his partner hadn't made the turn. He was sitting back at the corner, cooking a grenade. Popping out for just a second, he tossed it down the hallway. It exploded, catching the two Marines in the open. One Marine was killed, but the other was wounded and knocked unconscious. Honda knew he was alone in the hall and stopped trying to get out from under the Sergeant.

Playing dead, Honda watched through barely-open eyes as the JSDF soldier stalked around the corner, shortly followed by two terrorists and the JSDF Lieutenant who had come down after the lead two JSDF troops. The Lieutenant stopped over the Sergeant's body to make sure he was dead, and he checked the pulse to make sure. Nothing. He was just about to check Honda's pulse when one of the terrorists said, "No, we don't have time. We have to flank the Americans now." Looking up, the Lieutenant nodded and pressed up the hallway. Honda sighed. He was safe for now.

Within a few seconds, he heard gunfire, but it wasn't from the stairwell. More JSDF troops had dropped in through the hole in the ceiling around the corner and were meeting counterattacks from defenders in the East side of the lower level, trying to keep the enemies from advancing any farther.

Another roar of gunfire erupted above him. The Lieutenant and his terrorist and JSDF compatriots had flanked right behind the Americans guarding the stairwell above. The Army machine gunners and Marine rifleman were caught completely unaware. Honda closed his eyes, knowing that they were probably dead. Now that the enemy had two routes into the basement, they began to come down. Honda counted thirty JSDF troops and terrorists coming down the stairs, some going towards the West side, others passing him to go to the Eastern side. All he could do for now was to continue to play dead and hope no one bothered to check him or move him.

The explosion that had ripped a hole in the ceiling of the basement went unnoticed by most of the defenders. They had just written it off as just another grenade or larger explosive, but not the enemy coming from directly above them as opposed to the stairs. Carlson and Stevens turned around when the explosion went off, but shrugged and returned to guarding the stairwell. Only after hearing the eruption of enemy gunfire within the halls, and not from the stairs, did the defenders realize what was going on.

Miyuki's eyes went wide. "They're on the lower level! One of the stairwells failed!"

Just as she finished, a Marine turned the corner down the hall and shouted. "They blew a hole in the ceiling and took one of the stairwells! We've got company, everyone keep sharp! They may try to come through another point in the ceiling! Don't bunch up, spread out, and it they try it again, just fire everything up through those holes!"

Natsumi shot Miyuki a glance. "What did he say? I didn't understand all of that."

"He said that the enemies blew a whole in the ceiling and are down here. And if they try it again, fire everything you have up through the hole." Miyuki was scanning the ceiling now, wondering if the sections right over her and Natsumi would be the next ones to go. More explosions out to the other side of the station signaled that more sections of ceiling were being blown out.

Carlson reloaded his rifle and listened to the action. "They're only going over the other side. What the hell is going on? Are they trying to overload one side and get us fighting on the same level again? This is really starting to piss me off."

"I don't know. They've been fighting this whole battle weird. It's almost like they're trying desperately to protect something in the process of attacking." Delta Sergeant, First Class Chris Stevens popped off two more rounds at a movement he thought he saw in the stairwell. "I've got a bad guy with an AK in the stairs. Give me another grenade." Taking the explosive device from his partner, Stevens pulled the pin, cooked the fuse, and chucked the grenade. More debris flew out into the hallway along with another dead terrorist, his AK's stock ablaze in his hands. "Quality."

From the other side of the station came more sounds of fighting, but the East side remained quiet, only a few scattered but heated engagements to hold the stairwells. Then it became completely quiet. Several minutes passed with almost not shots fired at all. "What's going on?" asked Natsumi, "This is really creepy."

Miyuki squinted as she scanned the ceiling above her. "I have no idea." The two female officers checked their ammunition and waited for the eventual assault. But it still didn't come. Checking her watch, Miyuki noted that it was 0255 Hours. "Ah, what the hell."

In their defensive positions in the basement, they had no way of knowing that up above, the JSDF troops and the terrorists were looking over floor plans for the station. For the moment, they were neither attacking nor defending. They were stagnant on the first floor and the West end of the station's lower levels, which they had complete control of. No one was bothering with going up, because they knew their target was below. First and foremost they had to retrieve the data, locked away somewhere safe in the East end of the basement. After the data was found, they could get it out of the station and then finish eliminating the Americans, preferably quick with the tanks and APCs using their explosive ordinance, thought most of the attackers. But their orders were to hold the station and defend against an American counter-attack, which meant that they would have to clear the building after the data was found.

"We know it's somewhere in the East end," remarked a terrorist leader. "Just where exactly, we don't." He puffed at a cigarette, something he hadn't done in almost a day, while he traced over the floor plans.

A JSDF Captain flipped the page on the plans. "Okay, there are three lower levels, but we can only access the lowest two from service shafts here in the East-15 Corridor. But the East-15 Corridor could be one of the places where the data is."

"What is the data in, anyway?" asked another JSDF man.

"A computer terminal that's locked up in a secret room not on the plans. If else, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now," replied the terrorist leader. "We have to look for a gap in the floor plans big enough to house a small room. Something like a gap that shouldn't be in-between two rooms that doesn't have any ducts running up through it."

The JSDF Captain rubbed his face with open palms. "I say it's not even on that level. I say we just take the first lower level and then get into the levels with the firing range and cells. There's plenty of unaccounted for space down there next to the generator houses and the range. I doubt it's near the cells, besides, that's the West end."

An aide entered the shattered remnants of what was once the first floor break room. "Captain, it's Brigade S-3. They want to know what's going on and what's taking so long."

"I do not need this right now," complained the Captain as he took the radio handset from his aide. "Haruyo, we're trying to locate the area that the data could be kept in right now, but it is taking more time than we thought. We don't want to risk destroying the room and the data somehow."

"Look, just get it done. The Colonel is about a step away from slitting my throat and coming down there to do it himself." The Operations Officer sighed audibly over the line. "Please, just hurry up. He's going to go insane."

"What, you mean he's not insane already? Shit, Haruyo, this entire thing is crazy. I'm just following my orders. I've got no reason to actually care. We'll get it done, just give us some more time."

"You don't have more. Get it done, Hiroaki."

The JSDF Captain threw the receiver back at his aide. "He's complaining that this stupid operation is taking to long. No, really? I had no idea that attacking a heavily populated Japanese city with one brigade combat team while going up against an American battalion in a fortified position would be so hard. And if that wasn't enough, we're only here to collect one damn piece of data and then let the big guns destroy this place. Oh, if only I hadn't got involved in this crap."

"Be careful what you say, Captain," the terrorist barked, adding a particularly fiery tone to the other man's rank. "You may not care, but there are plenty of people around you who do. If you continue saying that, you might find yourself forcefully relieved from command."

Hiroaki fingered his pistol's grip. "Are you threatening me, you little piece of shit?" Pulling out the SIG-Sauer P228, he flicked off the safety. "I won't have some third-rate asshole who only cares about getting this data and couldn't care less about the safety of his own men, mine, or any of the civilians around here telling me that I'm going to be relieved."

"Hey! Back off, damnit!" yelled the other JSDF officer as he grabbed the Captain's arm and shoved the terrorist back with his other arm. "None of this! None! Now we've got a job to do, so quit arguing."

The terrorist shrugged off the JSDF officer's arm and flipped his middle finger at the Captain. "Just watch yourself."

Reholstering his pistol, the Captain shook his head. "Right." They gathered back over the floor plans and continued to debate where the best place to attack was to get to where they thought the data terminal would be. After another few minutes, they finally settled on a location.

"Here. We'll attack here and secure the hallway. Explosives to take down the ceiling here and here, and the terminal is just around the corner behind these walls. Absolutely no grenades after the ceiling is down. I don't want any stray fragments making this all for nothing. We move quickly, we hit hard, we get the data, and we get the hell out."

A few floors up, United States Marine Corps Captain Vincent Surai was sitting up against an overturned filing cabinet pondering the situation at hand. "This sucks."

"Really?" responded another Marine.

Surai just raised an eyebrow at the enlisted man.

"Sorry, sir."

"Nah, that was just asking for a sarcastic response." He rubbed his face and sighed. "Well, anyone got any bright ideas? I'm fresh out. Virtually everyone is out of grenades, seems like every radio in this building has been put out of commission, casualties are continuing to rise, ammunition is running ridiculously low, and we've got about two battalions of idiots with guns in and around the building but not trying to come up here and kill us. Well, actually, I do have dumb ideas, though. We could have everyone jump out the windows and surprise the crap out of these people. Maybe they'll think we're actually reinforcements parachuting in without chutes. They'd have to surrender to the craziest people in the world, Marines and Army Infantry who parachute without chutes. Or we could always just sit here and wait for them to come up here. Kind of what we're doing now, right?"

The other defenders in the room just smirked as Surai continued to provide comical options for them to undertake, but everyone knew that what he was saying actually was the gist of their options for real. There wasn't much that they could do with what they had. A few radios actually were working, though. An Army Lieutenant up near the roof had his working and was still in contact with Camp Zama. Unfortunately, they were failing to tell him that they weren't in contact with the onsite commander, Captain Surai. At times in the U.S. Military, information moved at about the pace of molasses in Antarctica in January.

Arizuka and Kinoshita were near Surai. A Navy Corpsman was changing a dressing on Arizuka's leg, which was still bleeding slightly from a gash received from falling debris during the bombing of the wall about an hour and a half ago. It was just about 0335 Hours. After the Corpsman finished, he scuttled over to a hole in the wall and slipped through it to another room to tend to anyone else he could find.

Kinoshita was with an Army Specialist trying to fix Surai's radio, which had been knocked out when debris hit it. "Move the flashlight left a bit, I can't see," she said. Holding a pair of tweezers, she tried to splice a new wire into the antenna jack. She had cannibalized the wire from another radio set that had been completely destroyed. "Just a little bit more... There." She crimped the wire around a contact that she had rubbed down with her fingernail file. Next was the issue of reattaching the cracked antenna. Luckily, it fit, but the connection was still a bit loose. Some tape commandeered from a drawer in the next room remedied that. The Specialist was amazed at her knowledge of the set. "Radios are all the same, basically. This one is a lot more complicated that the ones we use, but its basics are still the same."

When her hands began getting a little cramped, she turned things over the Specialist while she held the light. Army Specialist, Fourth Class Richard Walls finished up the more complex tasks that Kinoshita had left, including fixing the Harris Satellite Receiver organic to the radio. For a few more minutes he fiddled with the innards of the set, attempting to repair connections. After he was finished, he put down the small tools and propped the radio against the wall and tried turning it on. Immediately the Harris Frequency Screen on the PRC-117F began flashing. "Houston, we have lift-off. Hell yeah!"

Surai moved over. "Thanks for helping, Kinoshita. And you too, Specialist. Okay, let's see if we can get someone, anyone, on the horn here." Sliding on his butt closer to the gaping holes in the wall which opened into what as once a hallway, but now little more than an open space between the third and fifth floors, Surai tried to get the antenna closer to the open air and better reception. He was still under cover and couldn't be seen from the outside. Typing in some of the frequencies that he had memorized, he crossed his fingers and said a little prayer. The Marine Captain thumbed the talk button and spoke into the handset. "This is Alpha Six, is anyone on this channel? Over." Silence. "This is Alpha Six, is anyone on this channel? Over." Silence. "I repeat, this is Alpha Six, is anyone on this channel? Over." He sighed and was about to type in another freq when the sweetest words he had ever heard came over the set.

"Alpha Six, Zama-Six. Go."

The Marine sank into the floor in joy. "Oh, thank God." He thumbed the button again. "Alpha Six. We managed to fix our radio and we're back in contact. Over."

"Alpha, hold for confirmation of identity."

'Confirmation of what?' Surai looked at the handset quizzically. "Alpha Six, what the hell does that mean? Over." He thought for a moment. 'Oh, yeah. They want to make sure I'm not an enemy who managed to get hold of a radio set and wants to play havoc with us.' The Captain continued to lie on the floor while he waited for Zama to come back with a question that only he would know the answer to and clear him of suspicion. It seemed like hours, but was actually only about a minute.

"Alpha, Zama. What was the name of that Finnish nut-job peacenik who always tried to get on base at Keflavik?"

His mouth almost dropped through the floor and down to the basement. 'You've got to be kidding me. They're asking me THAT?' "Hey, first of all she wasn't Finnish. She was Norwegian. Get it right. Secondly, what do you mean 'tried?' She always got on base. That's why you never trust those retarded APs (Air Patrol, the Air Force's police) to do a Marine's job. Third, her name was Rebekka Soerland. Happy now? Over." He could almost hear the laughter, tens of kilometers away. When Surai was a young Marine Lieutenant, fresh out of training, he had been assigned to Keflavik Naval Air Station on Iceland. There was a particular Norwegian girl who loved toying with the Americans, and Surai had finally booted her off base and arrested by the local police when she managed to get into his quarters.

"Alpha Six, hah hah, you're cleared. Just making sure, son. What's your SITREP? Over."

"Sir, quite frankly, it's really bad. We're low on just about everything and I know that the first floor has already been overrun and probably so have the lower levels of the building. I have no contact at this time from any of my men or the Army troops that were down there. We hold the second floor and up. There have been no attempts by the enemy to take anything above the first floor, yet. Currently it's just a stalemate. We're not doing anything; they're not doing anything. I've got way to many casualties to try a direct assault. Anything that moves in the hallways is guaranteed to be killed. Hell, I don't even have a hallway. They busted it up so badly with RPGs and grenades that it collapsed along a twenty-meter stretch down onto the third floor. I'm moving what medical supplies and ammunition I have left around through holes they we're making in the walls. Over."

"Hold on as best you can, Captain. We're still trying to get the armor force set up outside the Ward, but it will take more time. Hopefully it will start rolling at about 0700. That's what we're shooting for. If you haven't noticed, I've stopped artillery around you for now. Almost all the enemies are too close to the building to try and strike them and not hit the building itself. I don't want to weaken it anymore than it already is and have it come collapsing down on you. Unfortunately, the Japanese have also moved up their man-portable surface-to-air missiles and their AAA platforms. They haven't shot down anything yet, but they've winged some aircraft and I've had to pull them back. That means they can't strike at the tanks and APCs that have also moved up to the building. There're about ten tanks and thirteen APCs on your porch. Over."

"Oh, perfect. Thanks for the update, sir. Always good to know what's going on in the world." Rapping his fingers on the floor, Surai tried to think of anything else that he might need to say. "What's the status of Delta Five-One, Sir? Over."

"They're holding their own for now. It's been a hell of a fight, but they're still kicking." Several explosions from the depths below cut off Walker. "What was that?"

Flipping the button again, Surai replied. "I think they're trying something again, Sir. I'll get back to you; I need to find out. Alpha Six out." Inching back away from the debris and back into the dark recesses of the room, Surai yelled over the now-increasingly loud gunfire, "God! What does a guy need to do to get some sleep around here! Every other minutes it's bang-bang this, boom-boom that!"

A section of ceiling had been blown down in front of them only a few minutes before, and now they were retreating back down the hallway. The four Americans and the two female police officers took turns covering each other as they made their way to better cover. Grenade fragments and rifle fire were piercing through the growing plumes of thick, gray, acrid smoke. It was to the point where they could hardly see two meters in front of them.

Already, the defenders at the opposite end of the hallway had abandoned their position and were covering their own withdrawal. But as they pulled back, two more ceiling sections were blown down close to each other, causing a catastrophic failure of the walls. Debris tumbled into the hallway, cutting off the stairwell. The enemy had inadvertently closed off their own assault route by using too many explosives. Ken and the Chief retreated back down the hallway when their American counterparts fell back, letting the Deltas, the Army troopers, and the two women defend the rest of the hall. "We need to go reinforce the other routes! They can handle this!"

Finally turning the corner, the two Delta Sergeants ordered the two women to withdrawal to the cafeteria and defend it. The Americans would make the final stand in the halls. "If they break through the last lines, fire everything you have at them! Don't let them get to the civilians!" Carlson's words were almost completely drowned out by the cracking of rounds hitting the concrete walls around him. Stevens held his M4A1 around the corner and depressed the trigger, sending a full-auto hail of bullets down the hallway, hoping that he would hit something.

With immense reluctance, Natsumi and Miyuki got up from their crouches and began to move back down the halls towards the cafeteria just as another thunderous explosion ripped the ceiling out from in front of them. The blast hurled them both backwards, dropping them like tons of bricks onto the cold floor. Natsumi tried to prop herself up and bring her rifle to bear on the hole above her, but it was no use. Her arm wouldn't work. 'If I could just move my arm,' she thought. Even straining as hard as possible wouldn't do the trick. Using her other hand, she reached for her pistol and grabbed it. She flicked off the safety and fired several rounds into the smoke-filled air floating around. A terrorist body thunked down on the debris in front of her, dead, a shot from her pistol having gone right through his forehead. Reaching the end of her clip, she again tried to move her other arm to bring up the rifle, but it still wouldn't move. As two more enemies dropped through the hole, she began to panic. Twisting her head up and around so she could see her arm, she almost had a stroke. Miyuki's soot-blackened body was pinning her arm to the ground. "Miyuki! No!"

A JSDF soldier noticed her shadowy form on the floor through the smoke and brought his rifle up, but a row of tiny holes was stitched up his body. The bullets from the Army PFC's rifle threw him back into the other enemies that had dropped in. Carlson rushed over to Natsumi and Miyuki. Grabbing Miyuki's body, he dragged her off of Natsumi. While continuing to receive covering fire from the Private, the Delta Sergeant propped Miyuki against the wall before helping Natsumi up. "She's still alive!" Reacting to another threat, AJ Carlson whipped around and pumped buckshot from the shortened 12-gauge shotgun slung under his M4A1's barrel into a terrorist trying to shove the dead JSDF soldier off of himself, giving a whole new meaning to the term, "ripping him a new one."

Natsumi knelt next to Miyuki, who stirred a bit. "Miyuki! Miyuki! Are you all right? Come on, speak to me!" More and more gunfire screamed about the halls, making it impossible to hear anything about a full-lung scream. "Say something! Please!" The brown-haired officer shook her friend's arm, trying to rouse her more.

Miyuki shook her head from side to side, trying to clear the cobwebs. "I'm okay! I can still fight." That was not really the case, as Miyuki was obviously unable to stand, but tried to anyway. Her legs were paralyzed. The sharp blow that she had received to her back when she was thrown back had temporarily knocked out her ability to feel or use her legs, but at the time she couldn't tell. Her senses were going berserk and the lack of feeling below her torso wasn't even registering with her current thoughts. Slowly, she regained the use of her legs, and seeing her try to stand was like watching a newborn giraffe attempt to walk. It was quite pitiful.

Two grenades plopped through the opening in the ceiling, and Carlson, reloading the shotgun, saw them roll to a stop on separate sides of the hall, in the middle of the remains of the ceiling. Spinning around, he screamed, "Grenades!" and dove for the two women. He covered them as best he could. Twin explosions ripped through the halls, sending fragments all over. Given the proximity to the blasts, Carlson took several hits. Most struck his Kevlar-armored torso, but a few struck his still exposed legs. The Delta slumped to his side clutched his legs, screaming that he was hit. The Army PFC rushed over to the downed Sergeant, First Class to help, but not before a JSDF soldier came down through the hole, firing as he dropped. Several rounds slammed into the PFC's side, flipping him around and nailing him to the floor. He was dead before he hit the floor. The other Army Private unloaded his entire clip from his M-16A2 into the smoke, felling the JSDF soldier. He moved up in a crouched stance, reloading his rifle, and then firing more blind shots into the smoke to deter more enemies.

The force of the blast hitting Carlson had knocked Natsumi into Miyuki, reversing their positions from before, with Natsumi now pinning Miyuki down. Natsumi saw Carlson on the floor to her right; the big Delta was still rolling around, blood seeping from between his finger as he tried to apply pressure to the wounds in his legs. Next to Natsumi, her black-haired fellow policewoman tried, once again, to regain her senses.

Now Miyuki's vision was beginning to swim. She couldn't distinguish any lines; everything was just a big blur. "Natsumi. I can't feel anything," she whispered, knowing that there was no way her partner would hear it over the thundering battle around them. Officer Miyuki Kobayakawa felt around for her MP5. 'I can't stop, I can't give up. Have to move. Have to fight. Have to protect the civilians.' Miyuki managed to find the strength to get up onto her elbows just as Natsumi lifted herself up and grabbed her Type-89.

Officer Natsumi Tsujimoto flashed her partner a faint smile and twisted around onto her butt. "Come on, we have to move!" she yelled, but she couldn't get up fully. The pain was too great. Neither of the women could get up.

Behind her, the Army Private was still firing his rifle into the smoke. Behind him, Sergeant, First Class Chris Stevens was down to his final two magazines for his rifle when he turned to his side and screamed, "AJ, last mags!" He stopped short of turning back to the fight when he saw his fellow Delta, hit and down, in the hallway a few meters away. "AJ!" A rifle round tore through his left arm, spinning him around in his kneeling position, and exposing his side. Another round pierced the less-protected side panel of the armor, slamming him into the floor. "Ahhhh! I'm hit!" In desperation, he brought his rifle up purely on adrenaline and loosed an entire clip on auto right into the chest of a terrorist rushing up to the corner, firing his AK wildly. Stevens kicked with his legs to get around the corner and pushed himself back towards AJ Carlson. Both Deltas were in extreme pain.

Eighteen-year-old Army Private Michael McCray from Moscow, Idaho was the only remaining fully-function defender left in the hallway. He had joined the Army and volunteered for the Infantry before he had even graduated high school. All he ever had wanted to do was to serve in the military. Now he was defending five casualties in a horrible battle over a single computer terminal. Michael fired the last rounds of his magazine into the hole above as more JSDF troops reached the corner of the hallway behind him.

To McCray's left, Stevens tried to keep his pistol steady, but the pain in his side was too great. Gathering his last strength, he yelled at the young Private. "Enemies behind you! Look out!" came from his mouth right before the blackness overtook his vision and all of his senses failed him. Stevens' helmeted head clattered to the floor with a faint click that no one could hear.

Dropping to his right and spinning around, McCray leveled off his rifle and put a three-round burst through a JSDF trooper's chest, killing him instantly. Another JSDF soldier tried to take the fallen one's place, but met a similar fate. Michael McCray's rifle continued to pour fire at the hallway, but he couldn't go on forever. The slide ratcheted back on his rifle, signaling an empty clip. He knew he was out of ammunition. Private McCray dove for Stevens' rifle, but it was empty, too. Next he went for Stevens' pistol. Dropping the clip, he counted two rounds in the magazine and one in the chamber. The young enlisted soldier raised up the pistol and aimed at a lone terrorist that he could barely make out through the smoke. The terrorist had his rifle up and was advancing down the hallway. He didn't notice that McCray was still alive until he saw the muzzle flash of the pistol for the third time.

First shot wide left. Second shot wide right. Third shot. The third shot entered the man's skull right between his eyes dropping him like a stone. But as a dying spasm, he triggered his Type-89. A steady steam of bullets worked their way along the floor, the final two striking McCray in the shoulder and the back. McCray grunted under the pain. Clutching the pistol in his hands, McCray tried to fight back the fiery power of the pain, but it wasn't to be. He finally and reluctantly relented, letting the blackness take him.

Behind him, Natsumi and Miyuki were just finding the strength to get up. They saw that all four Americans were down. Carlson struggled to apply a bandage to his worst wound, the events of the past few seconds having completely passed him by. Miyuki and Natsumi struggled over the body of the Army PFC, dead, near McCray and tried to help Carlson up. They were going to make a break for the cafeteria, but he too fell unconscious, the strain of moving proving too much.

Two JSDF soldiers dropped through the hole in the ceiling above, smoke flowing down with them, like it was being dragged along. As the lower pressure created by their falls met with the higher pressure in the hall below, the smoke clashed and spun around in circles. If it weren't a battle scene, it would've made a nice screensaver for a PC in a cubicle of a deprived engineer somewhere. Natsumi saw the movement out of the corner of her eye and spun around. It was almost a scene from the Matrix as she brought up her rifle in slow motion, pushing Miyuki away with her other hand. She triggered a burst of rifle rounds.

The first few rounds went wide, but the next five or six struck home, killing the soldier to the left. But the one to the right had already reacted. The firing pin ignited the charges in the cartridges. As the gas created expanded, it forced the bullets past the speed of sound and out of the end of the rifle. Out of all the rounds he fired, just two were headed for the women. Natsumi was shifting to her left when the bullets struck her shoulder. The armor piercing 5.56mm rounds lanced straight through the thinly protected area of the armor over her right shoulder. Both rounds exited her body and continued on to what was right behind her. Entering just above Miyuki's collarbone, the first round exited without causing much damage. The second round ripped through her chest, exiting through her right shoulder blade. That bullet finally lost all its kinetic energy and flattened itself out against the rear wall of Miyuki's Kevlar vest.

Natsumi was thrown back violently to her right rear. She landed atop Miyuki, who had already hit the ground before her. Miyuki was out cold already, blood streaming from her shoulder and chest. As Natsumi lay in Miyuki's and her own blood, she couldn't help but think about two things. Her partner and best friend dying slowly below her, and an American Lieutenant two kilometers away, fighting for his own life. Just as she blacked out, she hoarsely gasped, "Miyuki. Arleigh. I'm hit."

The JSDF soldier who had shot her walked up to the two women and looked down at them. Several more terrorists and JSDF personnel turned the corner at the end of the hall and came down through the hole in the ceiling. Three Americans and two Japanese policewomen were unconscious at their feet. They were about to make sure all of them were dead.

"Who cares? Just shoot them all a few times. That'll make sure."

"I cannot believe I shot two women."

"Once again, who cares? Move it, we've got a job to do."

"I shot women."

"Oh, to hell with this. If you have some friggin' rivers to cry, go do it. Just get out of my way." The terrorist egging on the JSDF soldier got fed up with the delay and was just bringing his AK-74 to bear when a burst of machine gun fire sliced through his torso. The other attackers spun around in horror as shadowy figures moved through the smoke, firing machine guns from the hip. Before anyone could even think to aim, they were cut down with relentless fire.

Marine Sergeant Dale Lennox and Army Staff Sergeant Ken Swiatowski moved forward, firing two M240 machine guns from the hip. They were followed by three more Army troopers and two Marines. If there was one overall theme of U.S. Military training, it was that the "Rambo" movies were good example of fiction, and not to be taken seriously, especially when it came to firing machine guns from the hip. Of course, in battle, that sometimes proved otherwise when the body overrides the mind's basic survival and intelligence functions.

"Grab the bodies and get them back to the cafeteria!" bellowed "Sweet" Swiatowski. He fired up into the hole in the ceiling to deter any enemies above while Lennox covered the hallway corner with fire. "No one gets left behind! Don't leave their weapons, either!"

"Sarge! Sarge! These two are still alive!"

"So are these two!"

"And this one, too!"

"Well, then get them the hell back there! Move it, damnit!" Sweet continued to pour fire upwards as the other troops grabbed the bodies of four unconscious defenders and one dead defender. "Lennox! Let's go!"

"Roger that!" Dale Lennox jumped up from his kneeling position and backpedaled over the debris, covering the team in its wake. More grenades plopped through the ceiling hole as he retreated towards the turn in the hall. A few fragments reached out at him, but he was already turned and gone.

As the enemies came down into the hallway, they surveyed the carnage. Dead terrorists and dead JSDF, but no dead or wounded defenders.

"What the hell happened here?" muttered a JSDF soldier as he stepped over the unrecognizable body of a former comrade in arms. "This is quickly becoming not worth the cost."

It was 0420 Hours. Low on ammo and low on able-bodied personnel, the defenders tightened up into their last perimeter, holding the ends of corridor East-15.

QUESTIONS AND COMMENTS:


	15. Blindside

**The Siege**

**Chapter 15: Blindside**

By JagdPanther

First Lieutenant Arleigh Rivera tripped into a dumpster. "Son of a bitch!" he breathed. In the dark, he hadn't seen a piece of two-by-four lumber in the shadow and tripped over it. He stood back up and rubbed a sore spot on his shin that had met the outrigger on the bottom of the trash container. It's not like he didn't have anything else bothering him, though. He still had a gash on his arm and a stab wound to his leg to worry about. Both wounds were patched up with field dressings, but they hurt like hell. "Why me?" There was also the huge bruise on his shoulder from when a bullet shattered his flashlight sometime after they vacated the LP building.

"Make a little less noise over there, L-T," quipped Ryker over the Delta personal commo set from the next building back. He had the radio turned way down so it only transmitted a couple hundred meters to prevent anyone farther away than that from listening in. Arleigh was scouting ahead while the others waited. When he cleared it, they'd leapfrog forward and someone else would scout ahead. They'd been doing this for about forty minutes since they had abandoned their position in the field. They had already moved a block up from the canal and were picking their way in-between various buildings. Right now they were in an alleyway behind a row of small businesses.

"Shut up." The American Army officer checked his rifle barrel to make sure it hadn't been clogged with dirt when he fell. "Okay, let's go." Arleigh got stalked up to the corner of the building next to the dumpster and came to a halt. Dropping to a knee, he scanned the alley ahead, and deciding it was clear, checked around the corner into the small parking lot. He waited for a few minutes to see if anything or anyone was around the vehicles still in the parking lot. "All clear, move up," he radioed back before standing up and panning his rifle barrel over the parking lot a few more times.

"Affirmative." Sergeant, First Class Al Ryker motioned for the other three soldiers to follow as he made his way up to Rivera's position. They all covered different angles as they crept forward slowly and silently. Now it was Sergeant Adams' turn to scout forward for the group of Americans.

The Marine kept his M240 leveled as he moved forward towards the next waypoint along the team's route. Adams has been on an adrenaline high since the team left for the LP several hours before, but now with the lack of any action and the relative quietness of the alley, he was beginning to come down. He fought back the exhaustion that threatened to topple him over at any moment as he pressed on. Sergeant Adams stopped short of the next corner, got into a prone position, and crawled the remaining distance. The next corner is where the alley ended onto another primary road. Through the faint light, he was able to make out the edge of the canal to his left and a winding road to his right. He could hear some light gunfire coming from the station, a few more hundred meters away, but other than that, things were pretty calm. Adams rose to a knee and waved the group forward.

As they all came up to the corner, Arleigh held back Chavez, since it was his turn to go forward. "Okay, we're going across the street and into that building complex right there. Then it's about another 400 meters down another alley to the station. Along the alley, about 225 meters, is a small courtyard. We'll secure that and take a break. Maintain absolutely noise discipline." The Lieutenant tapped Chavez on the shoulder and sent him across the street while the other four covered him. Rivera aimed his rifle over the head of the kneeling Antonelli towards the main road while Ryker did the same over Adam's head.

Marine Lance Corporal Javier Chavez quietly moved towards the building front and came to a halt near the front door. He peered inside and saw nothing moving. First he tried the handle. No luck; it was locked. Chavez turned back and around and made the "no-go" hand signal. He got the "hold" symbol back. Covering Ryker, Chavez waited for the Delta Sergeant to cross the street. Ryker came to a knee in front of the door and took out a multi-tool. Within a few seconds, he had picked the lock and opened the door. Chavez swung to the left inside while Ryker went right. They cleared the room and motioned for the rest of the team to cross.

Once everyone was inside, Specialist, Fourth Class Antonelli closed the door and moved to the rear of the building with the team. It was his turn to scout forward. Everyone stacked up at the rear door of the main building. Another alley was on the other side of the door. Mario crept silently down the narrow alley. It was barely wide enough for a car, let alone the garbage trucks that were supposed to come down it to get the dumpsters in the alcove at the end of it.

Antonelli thought that he heard something up ahead. He dropped to his left and into a shadow. There was something moving near the garbage cans about 15 meters away. With so little light making its way in-between the buildings, he couldn't get a good focus on the movement, but there was definitely something there. His heart rate increased exponentially with each step. Slowly but surely he picked his way from shadow to shadow towards the cans. As he neared, whatever was making the noise stopped. The SpecFour gulped hard and took his cramped hand off of the rifle barrel to flex it. Creeping along, Mario continually shifted his sight up the alley to make sure nothing else was there and back to the garbage. When he was within a couple meters of the garbage, something small and gray pounced out from behind the garbage cans. Antonelli's heart almost leapt out of his chest. The cat jumped on top of a pallet leaning against the side of the building and stared at Antonelli. Mario let out a huge breath and wiped his brow as the cat jumped back down, deciding that the soldier wasn't harmful, and stalked away to find another place to eat. Waiting for his heart to settle itself back down, Antonelli held still and before he continued on his way.

Once he had arrived at the first intersection with another alleyway, he stopped and scanned for enemies. The team was lucky up until now, and continued to be. There were no enemies to be seen. Antonelli signaled "all clear" and waited for the team to arrive.

Ryker prepared to go next. He would go the final 100 meters to the courtyard. The big Sergeant, First Class glided forward, no sound coming from anywhere on or around him. It was quintessential Delta. It was getting noticeably brighter now around 0600 hours. Only a couple hundred meters from the station, it seemed that Arleigh had estimated a bit too much time for getting to the station. In the distance, he could hear short bursts of muffled gunfire and what he thought were tank engines idling. 'No, no way. They can't be at the station, can they?' Al Ryker stopped at a small door-sized gate set in the wall. It was open, the lock having never been reset when the occupants had fled the previous day. The rest of the team came up a few moments later.

Arleigh directed Ryker and Adams to go right as the he and the others would go left. The team slid through the open gate and fanned out. They checked every doorway, every window, and every stairwell. Going upstairs, they did the same. It seemed quiet enough. Rivera signaled for everyone to come to him. They all entered a small room that seemed to be a private office of some sort. Arleigh spoke low to everyone, "Okay, take five. I'm going to check in." Going back out into the second floor hall, he took the radio off of his back and set it up on the ledge. He typed in a frequency and activated the handset and spoke with a whisper. "Delta Five-One hailing Alpha Six. Over." There was no response at first. "Delta Five-One hailing Alpha Six. Over."

"Alpha here. Go ahead. Over."

"Alpha Six, we are about two hundred meters from the station in small building complex. We will come at you from the East, I repeat, come at you from your Echo. Alleyway opens onto Miyamura Drive at midpoint of station. Request you give me an update of the enemy positions along Miyamura so we can attempt to eliminate some before crossing the no-mans-land. Over."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Delta. Over."

"Uh, say again Alpha. Over." Arleigh was puzzled as he held the handset to his ear.

Surai came back with a sigh before repeating, "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Delta. Over."

Arleigh keyed the com again. "Why not, Alpha? Just tell your guys not to shoot us. We'll figure out a way to get across the no-mans-land. Over."

"That's not it, Delta. We don't have anyone on the line anymore. The lower levels are completely overrun. They have armor ringing the station and we can't stick our heads up without being blown away by 35 mike-mike fire from those APCs. Over."

The handset almost fell from his hand. "Uh, Alpha, it just sounded like you said they overran the lower levels. Can you repeat? Over."

"That's affirmative, Five-One. They did. Over."

"Wow. Communications really are the first thing to break down. Hold on Alpha, I need to chat with Zama. Out." Angrily typing in a more general frequency, Arleigh pressed the talk button again. "Delta Five-One to Zama. Just when the hell were you planning on telling me that the station was overrun? I was going to walk into a death trap. Over."

"Five-One, we thought you knew. Over."

The Lieutenant set the handset on the ledge and looked up at the morning sky while he shook his head. "You have got to be kidding me, God. Really. This isn't funny any more." Picking up the handset and thumbing the button, he continued. "Right. Not a problem Zama," he said, feeling like he wanted to reach through the airwaves and strangle the radio operator sitting in a nice, comfy chair tens of kilometers away at a U.S. Army facility. "We'll figure something out. Delta Out." Returning to the local frequency, Arleigh called in, "Alpha Six. Did you monitor my conversation with Zama? Over."

"Roger that, Delta. I know, don't say it. How do you plan on getting in here? We know for sure that they have the first floor and probably have the lower levels, but gunfights are still going on down there, so there may be some resistance left. We think they've cleared most of the buildings around the station and are either inside or around the station. Over."

"No clue, Alpha. I'll radio you back when we get closer to the station. I want to survey what's out there. Delta Out." After he returned the radio to his back, the First Lieutenant dialed up the power on his Delta com and called, "Delta Five-One to Delta Five-Two. Over."

Anderson immediately came back over the line. "Delta Five-Two. Go."

"Five-Two, what the hell is going on there? Did the team take any casualties? Over."

"Unknown, Five-One. We were overrun a few hours ago down there. I've lost contact with Deltas Five-Five and Five-Eight, but they could be with the resistance in the basement. Rest of team okay. Continuing to guard against further incursions by the enemy up the stairwells. Where are you? Over."

'Shit. Five and Eight are Carlson and Stevens.' Arleigh swore and keyed the com again. "About two hundred meters from the station. We're moving up to survey what is around you, then we'll figure out how to get to you. Approaching from the Miyamura Drive side. Check in when arrive. Out." The Delta team leader hit the ledge with a closed fist and returned to the room where the rest of the guys were.

"Why do I even bother with this crap anymore? I should really just skip out on this job and get me something more sane." Arleigh paced around the room as the rest of the guys watched him.

"Um, is there something wrong, sir?" asked Ryker.

"Apparently," he began, "the communications broke down between us and the rest of the world over the past few hours. Apparently, the enemy overran the station's lower levels and Command failed to inform us. So we would've been walking right into the enemy if we had tried to get to the station."

Everyone sat in stunned silence.

Adams was the first to speak. "So, uh, I guess this means, um, that we'll be doing something else?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Arleigh leaned against the wall and took a sip from his canteen. "We're going to move up quietly, attempt to occupy a building across from the station. Captain Surai said the enemies probably vacated all of them and are around the station or in it. We'll survey the surroundings and figure out what to do from there. Armor is ringed around the station, too. That should be fun."

After a few minutes, the team packed up and moved out. They slinked down the alleyway. Arleigh ducked the team into a building that adjoined Miyamura Drive. By now Ryker was sure he heard the tank engines idling. As they made their way up, they cleared each room, making sure no enemies were left behind guarding anything or watching the station. They were lucky, and they found no one. Setting up in an inner room, the team held while Arleigh and Ryker crept to an outer room. Rivera fished a small mirror out of his sack and stuck it just above the splintered windowsill. Panning it around, he tried to see what was outside. There were three tanks and two APCs along Miyamura Drive. Both APCs were facing the station head on with their 35mm cannons pointing up. Towards the front of the station, one tank sat facing up the road to the northeast while another was sitting behind it, facing the other tank, while it idled. The third tank was parked alongside what was once the outer wall of the station. He noted that the wall was completely demolished, still smoking in some spots. A few groups of soldiers were sitting outside, smoking and eating. Some were around the APCs, but it appeared that most were along the wall of the station near the doors inside. The tank closest to Arleigh had its crew sitting on the tank, eating. One of the crewmembers was sleeping on the engine exhaust, probably to take advantage of the heat.

Arleigh pulled the mirror back down and waved Ryker over. The Delta Sergeant crawled over to his commanding officer and stuck his right ear near Rivera's mouth. Arleigh cupped his hand over Ryker's ear and whispered the locations of the enemies outside. After Ryker had surveyed the scene himself with the mirror, he handed it back to Rivera, shook his head, and shrugged as if to say, 'What do we do?'

Rivera just rolled his eyes. Cupping his hand over Ryker's ear again, he whispered. "Military motto. We wait." The two Delta Operators crawled as quietly as they possibly could back to the room where the other soldiers were waiting and sat up against the wall. Arleigh looked at his watch. It was just a past 0646 hours. He whispered to Ryker. "We're close enough, I think the radio will make it Surai." Taking the handset off of the radio, he clicked the button and breathed in, "Alpha Six, this is Delta Five-One. You there? Over."

Surai came back over the net in a few seconds. He had probably been waiting for the call. "Six here. Go ahead. Over."

"Six, we're across the road in a three story building, all brick, with a ladder to the roof on to right side as you face the front. Don't know exactly which building. Anyway, you've got three tanks and two APCs on the Miyamura Drive side. The APCs are facing the building, two tanks are up facing to the northeast on Yuki Street, covering the bend in Miyamura Drive, and a third tank is idle along the outer wall. I count maybe fifteen soldiers outside the building on this side. The rest are either inside or some may be in the tanks and APCs. I have no idea how we're going to cross this with only five guys. I think we're going to have to stay put until the armor support arrives. When will the armor get here, by the way? Over."

"Five-One, thanks for the SITREP. Armor is supposed to move out shortly, roughly around 0700. Zama will call in when they're moving. 3rd Marine's tanks and APCs are geared up, ready to go. Army 2/14th Cav is waiting for its 2 M1A1s; All M3 CFVs [Cavalry-Fighting-Vehicle] and 1st Brigade Strykers ready to go. Over."

Arleigh pondered that for a few moments before responding. "Roger that, Six. Let me know when they call in. I don't think I can get them from inside this building. When the attack starts, I'll check the outside again and see if I can get over there. Over."

"Five-One, you be damn careful. My guys have are on those stairwells like vice-grips. If you try to come up without identifying yourself, you'll be cut down in a hurry. Over."

"Uh, affirmative Six. I'll remember that. Waiting for that update. Five-One out." Arleigh sighed quietly and sat back while the others rested for a few moments. They heard a bit more muffled gunfire and not much more. They all made sure that their weapons were in working order so when they had to move, they wouldn't get caught with jammed rifles and machine guns.

As Arleigh waited for the call, he mulled over possible solutions to the problem of getting from here to the station and up to the defenders in the upper levels. The most basic and easiest solution was to, of course, just wait and wait and wait until the friendly armor finally arrived at the station and had either destroyed or driven off the enemy forces. That presented a few problems itself, though. The enemy might try to reoccupy the building that Arleigh and the others were in, and five guys against the remaining JSDF and terrorist forces wasn't a very good incentive to sit around.

The next solution was to wait for the armor attack to start, and then slip across the road and into the station while the enemies were reacting. It wasn't very far. Just across Miyamura Drive, over the rubble of the wall, and across the inner road to a building entrance. Once inside, though, they'd have to contend with whoever was left. Could be ten, twenty, a hundred, two hundred, even five hundred enemies, how could one know? Even if they made it inside without being noticed, they'd have to give themselves away when they identified themselves to the defenders in the stairwells above. Maybe it could work.

Arleigh mulled over some other solutions while waiting. There were, of course, the standard-issue completely insane solutions, but for the most part, he thought of ways to keep his guys alive and get them across to the station with the least resistance possible. The radio handset came alive in Arleigh's hand and he put it up to his ear. "Delta Five-One here. Go."

"Five-One, Alpha Six. Armor attack is kicking off. Army 2/14th Cav and 1st Stryker Brigade attacking across two bridges to north of station. 3rd Marines taking four bridges to west and southwest. Already engaging enemy forces. Resistance moderate. Making slight progress. Cav and 1st SB estimates three hours to reach station, Marines estimate two and a half hours. Code to kick off for attack was 'Climb Mount Niitaka.' Over."

Arleigh snickered lightly and smiled at the reference to the code that initiated the attacks on Pearl Harbor by the Japanese. 'Way to go whoever thought of that one,' he thought. "Roger that, Six. We're holding for now. SITREP in forty minutes. Five-One out." Arleigh set the receiver down and gave everyone an update on what was happening. "Okay, we're just going to wait here for another thirty minutes. In about thirty minutes, Ryker, you and me are going to go mirror out the window again and see what's going on down there. If the conditions aren't right, we'll continue to wait. If they are pretty good, we're try and make a break across the road and into the station. Supposing we do make a break, I am going to need you all at 110%. Sprint as fast as you possibly can across to the station and into the first floor doors. Once we get inside, we get to the nearest stairwell, yell up and identify ourselves, and get upstairs. No shooting until they've spotted us while we're getting over there, and from the time we get inside to the time we're up with the rest of the defense, you don't stop firing at anything that moves."

So once again the team was waiting. The time ticked by slowly. There was nothing to do but watch the doorway with weapons raised. No one said anything. They just sipped at what was left of their water and guarded the entrance to the room. Once again, as was many times in the past 20-some hours, it was time for the U.S. Military motto. "Let's hurry up and wait."

Arleigh thought about the possibility that he had lost another two Deltas in the lower levels of the station. That would bring his KIA count to four on the mission; Morris and Williams were dead with the rest of LP Two and now Carlson and Stevens were probably dead in the basement. The Delta coms should've been powerful enough to reach the basement, and they weren't calling in or responding to calls. 'I didn't have a major casualty during the entire Delta op in Japan, and in less than 8 hours my team is 33% down in capacity.' Out of the original twelve, only eight Deltas were still combat-operational and fighting. Rivera and Ryker were with the team across Miyamura Drive. Smith was still on the roof with the remaining snipers interdicting the enemy movements on nearby roofs. Anderson and Jones were holding one of the northern stairwells in the station with some Marines. McMichael, Lewis, and Horner were moving around the building keeping the defenders organized and on their toes.

Of course, there were also Arleigh's friends. There was really no way to tell if anyone from Traffic was still alive inside the building across the street. Unless Surai, Anderson, or one of the other Deltas had seen Natsumi, Miyuki, Ken, Kachou, Yoriko, or Aoi, he wouldn't find out how they were until he got himself over there. 'Natsumi. Where are you? Are you all right?' He sat staring up at the ceiling waiting for the minutes to slip by. 'God I hope she's okay. I hope they're all okay. I should be most worried about Yoriko and Aoi. They were in the basement. If they got overrun, then there's no telling what the enemy will do. Hopefully they have some compassion for two unarmed women.' Arleigh remembered what the outside of the station looked like through the mirror. 'Doubtful.'

When the time came, Arleigh and Ryker slipped out of the room and to the outer room they had used before. Again Arleigh took out the small mirror and tried to see what was down on the street below. In the distance, they could hear the blasts of 120mm cannons on the American M1A1s and Japanese Type-90s and ratcheting of 25mm and 35mm chain guns on the U.S. and JSDF APCs. In between, Arleigh could even hear some explosions of the smaller 105mm cannons on a few specially equipped American Stryker wheeled-armored vehicles. The 105 and 120 cannons made distinctly different sounds, at least to a military officer like Rivera. The banging of .50-Cal machine guns was all over the place, signaling a large amount of infantry were involved in the battle. Over the din, he was able to pick out some lighter machine guns pecking away.

As he scanned Miyamura Drive below, the First Lieutenant was astonished to find that nothing had changed. The tanks and APCs were all still where they had been earlier. 'Um, do these people just not care that there is a two-pronged American armor attack headed this way?' he thought. All that seemed to be different was that now the JSDF soldier who had been sleeping on top of the idle tank below was up and drinking what looked like coffee. 'You're kidding me. This redefines 'laid back.''

Ryker had the same reaction when he scanned with the mirror, too. 'Okay. That's different.' He smirked and handed the mirror back to his commanding officer. Again, as before, he gave Rivera a shrug as if to say, "What do we do?"

This time Rivera responded by pulling his pistol silencer from his belt and screwed it onto his Beretta M9 pistol's muzzle. He crept over to Ryker and said, "Feeling lucky, Al?"

* * *

Sergeant Youji Sasaka tried to shake the sleepiness from his head. He hadn't had a good sleep in a week. Youji had managed to catch a few winks on top of the tank earlier. The exhaust vents were still warm and they kept him from being cold in the early morning air over the Ward. While he leaned against the side of the Type-90 in which he was the driver, the Sergeant drank some coffee that his fellow crewmembers had made while he was asleep. It was a little on the lukewarm side, but it still tasted pretty good, given the crappy coffee that they put in the standard rations in the JSDF. 'They probably got this out of the break room inside this station,' he rationalized. 'No military coffee tastes this, well, not overly good.' He coughed when he choked on some coffee, trying to breathe and drink at the same time. Up ahead he saw the other two tanks in his platoon guarding the portion of Miyamura Drive that slanted up and to the northeast, away from the station. He wondered how the main line of defense was doing near the Sumida River while the Americans attacked. Pretty soon he would get the word to mount up and move out to help defend, probably. Hopefully by then the troops inside would have what they needed and have it on the way to the Colonel.

Setting his coffee cup down on the tank, he stretched his arms, reaching for the sky and shrugging up. As he rolled his wrists around to increase circulation, a hand whipped in front of his face and clamped down on his mouth. Before his mind could even register alarm, a knife blade piercing his neck just below the right ear. He never felt a thing. The sharpened knife sliced through him and severed his spinal cord in an instant.

Rivera slowly dropped the Japanese soldier's body to the ground, making sure nothing made any noise. Behind him, Ryker scanned around with his M4A1 rifle, the suppressor attached, making sure no one was coming. Up above in the building, Adams and Chavez waited under cover for Ryker and Rivera to make contact. They had the team's two machine guns ready to rock and roll. Antonelli was covering the entrance to the room with one of the two rifles he was carrying. Adam's M4A1 was slung across Mario's back while the big Marine used the M240.

Arleigh crept around the rear of the tank while Ryker moved around the front. The few remaining sections of the wall and its rubble blocked the two Deltas from view by anyone on the inner road around the station. Evidently, no one was outside or around the APCs, so they didn't have to worry about them for now. First Lieutenant Arleigh Rivera unholstered his silenced Beretta M9 pistol and brought it up. He peered over the rear of the tank towards the other side. The other three crewmembers of the tank were huddled around each other playing with cards. They were completely unaware of the two Americans behind and in front of their tank. Arleigh clicked his com once to make sure Ryker was in position. He got two clicks back. One more click from Rivera's radio told Ryker to open fire with his own silenced pistol.

Simultaneously, the two Deltas fired. Before the third crewmember even saw the others slump forward, two bullets entered his head from either side. He collapsed backwards onto some concrete rubble. The two Operators silently stalked over to the dead bodies and checked them for papers and maps of any kind. They gathered what they could and then brought up their M4A1 compact assault rifles. Arleigh was just about to signal Ryker to move over to the wall and take aim at the soldiers along the inner road when he glanced to his right and saw the two other tanks up the road. Then he looked back at the Type-90 behind him. 'Maybe I am crazy.'

He tapped Ryker on the shoulder and pointed to the tank's turret and then to the tanks up the road. Ryker gave him a, "No friggin' way" expression, his eyes growing to the size of baseballs and his jaw muscles bunching up. The Delta Sergeant grabbed Rivera by the arm and shook his head from side to side. He mouthed the words, "Let's move," but Rivera wasn't paying any attention. He was already moving back around to the other side of the tanks and climbing up onto it.

Rivera slung his rifle over his shoulder and lifted himself onto the rear of the battle tank. He waited for a few moments to make sure that even from his raised position, he was out of sight from the station. Al's hand landed on his ankle, causing him to turn back around on his chest and look at the Sergeant. Ryker was still furiously shaking his head from side to side. The Lieutenant just shrugged and crawled forward to the turret. Lifting his head up, Rivera looked around before hauling his body up on top of the turret. Arleigh grabbed the main hatch handle and pried the metal disc up. The hinges creaked a small bit, but it wasn't loud enough to alarm anyone nearby.

Down below, Ryker was a heartbeat away from a stroke. But he wasn't going to let his commander do something this dangerous and insane alone. The Sergeant, First Class was considered by his fellow Operators to be the most conservative and cautious of the team. Doing something like this would need to be verified by audio, video, and eyewitness for anyone to believe that it had happened. Al Ryker likewise slung his rifle over his back and climbed as quiet as he could up onto the turret next to his team leader, all the while glaring at Rivera. 'I am going to die in the very near future, aren't I?'

Arleigh swung his body around on the turret and slipped down into the dark interior of the commander's seat and then went deeper into the tank, sitting down in the gunner's seat. Ryker followed him down, taking a seat in the commander's position.

"Sir, what the hell! This is nuts! What are you going to do? We can't move! If we turn on the engine, they'll know right away something is up. Adams and Chavez don't know so we'll be sitting ducks without their cover. Once those guys find the dead crew, they'll know we're hostile and come up here and kill us! Damnit! Sir!" Ryker was fuming, but Rivera only responded by taking the team's only remaining flashlight off of Al's web gear. "Now what?"

"Shut up." Arleigh checked the indicators on the side of the main cannon and smiled. "Good, there is already a Sabot round loaded up." Searching around the compartment, he began cataloging all the controls he could figure out. After a minute, he found what he was looking for. "Okay, that wheel to my left shoulder is the manual traversing crank. The one in the center next to the gun on my side is the manual crank for elevating and depressing the gun. This here should be the manual optical sights." He tapped a small rifle-scope-like sight in front of him. "Let's do this."

"Whatever you say, sir." Al had already given up the ghost. There was no way he was talking the Lieutenant out of this. "What do you need me to do?"

Arleigh peered through the optical sight and got a look at the enemy Type-90s ahead. "Estimate range, 110 meters. Perfect ass shot on both. Taking out the closer one first." In the event of a mechanical malfunction, tanks of all makes and models were equipped with manual controls to traverse the turret around and elevate and depress the gun. Also, noise was a tank's worst enemy in an ambush. Sometimes tanks shut off their engines and the crew manually traverses the turret to track targets without giving their position away from their engine noise. There were also manual optical sights in case electronics were lost in battle. "Okay, I need five degrees right traverse. See if there are any controls to turn the tank on from the commander's seat. Once we fire, there is no sense in staying manual." The Delta slowly turned the crank wheel. Watching through the sights, Arleigh waited until the crosshairs were right on the closer Type-90. Arleigh stopped turning the wheel before grabbing the center crank and elevating the cannon slightly. He sat back and sighed while lifting up his Kevlar helmet and wiping his brow. "Might as well call this one in."

Keying his com, Arleigh spoke up. "Delta Five-One to all Delta Team members. Over." He waited for the remaining team members to check in, minus Ryker, of course, since he happened to be a part of the ridiculous stunt the officer was pulling at the moment. "Delta Five-One to all Delta Team members. There is about to be a tank battle outside. Please, if you would be so kind, tell everyone around to not shoot at the tank sitting next to the wall on Miyamura. It happens to be occupied by Ryker and myself. Thanks. Five-One out." Before any responses could come, Rivera turned off his com.

Sergeant, First Class Al Ryker just stared at the hull wall in the reflected light of the flashlight. "I cannot believe this is happening."

"Cry about it. Now keep looking." Arleigh motioned for the Sergeant to keep looking for certain controls that might be necessary shortly. Rechecking his aiming point, Arleigh leaned back and looked up at Ryker in the commander's seat above. "Ready to do this?"

"Yeah, I guess so. I found the ignition code for the diesel." Ryker looked down at his commanding officer with a glare that could kill. "Sir, with all due respect, I hate you." Al managed a smile and stuck his hand down to the officer. "But it's been a pleasure to serve with you." The two Deltas shook hands and nodded to each other.

"Fire in the hole." Arleigh triggered the cannon from the manual control stick to his front. A massive explosion rocked the tank back, sending the cannon recoiling back in an instant. A little under 110 meters away, the back of the Type-90 became a tremendous fireball. The 120mm round was actually just a casing for a 40mm tungsten-carbide-tipped dart. After leaving the cannon, the casing had dropped away and in a split second had pierced the more thinly armored rear of the Type-90. Lancing through the tank's ammo magazine, it detonated all the explosives inside. The resulting shockwave shook tank the Americans were in right down to the last nut and bolt. Several secondary explosions began blasting off as Arleigh yelled to Ryker, "Turn this damn thing on so I can get another round loaded up! Move it!"

Al Ryker punched in the in-turret ignition code for the tank. A low rumble filled the tank as it tried to turn over, and finally did. Lights began coming on inside the tank and sights lit up, as well as the aiming computers and other electronics. "Left traverse two degrees!" Arleigh grabbed the gun controls and twisted them to the right, swinging the turret left to meet the next target. "Sabot up!" yelled Ryker.

"Fire in the hole!" Arleigh triggered the cannon again and sent the round screaming away. It entered right the other Type-90 right where the turret met the chassis of the tank. In an action faster than any human could comprehend, the round sliced through the cannon barrel and detonated the high-explosive round in the breach. "Woohoo! Two down!"

* * *

Up above, Adams and Chavez were so taken by the shockwave that they were thrown back from the windows. They quickly regained their senses and rushed back to the windows. With the bi-pods already deployed, they dropped the machine guns on the windowsills and looked for targets. Several enemy soldiers were trying to recover from the explosion when fire from the S.A.W. and M240 began raining down around them. Chavez cut down a JSDF lieutenant, probably the leader of the armor units sitting just outside the wall.

Neither of them knew nor cared what had caused the explosion of the tank to the right until they saw the tank directly below lurch back and a huge tongue of flame spurt from the cannon muzzle. The sound wave alone of the cannon shook them to the bone. For a moment, they stopped firing. Down the street, the other Japanese tank exploded, sending flames up like geysers. The return fire from the Japanese on the inner road below brought them back into the fight. Adams focused on suppressing a group near a door while Chavez used the lighter S.A.W. to keep back a group of enemies trying to move their way out to the rogue tank. Adams looked back over his shoulder screamed to Antonelli, "Tell the Captain what's going on! The L-T and Ryker grabbed a tank! They're shooting at the other armor! Get some support from the station!"

Antonelli nodded and grabbed one of the radios by his feet. Ryker and Rivera had left them there while they was out on their little escapade. He keyed the com and yelled in over the machine gun noise behind him. "Alpha Six, Delta Five-One X-Ray! Over!"

"Alpha Six here. What the hell is going on, X-ray? Over."

"Sir! The Lieutenant and Sergeant Ryker commandeered a Japanese tank! They're engaging the other tanks outside! Request immediate overhead support from the building along Miyamura Drive! Over." Antonelli kept his rifle up with his other hand so he could continue covering the door in case any Japanese made it across the road and into the building to silence the two Marines manning the machine guns.

"Roger that! Ordering support!" Across the street in the bombed-out TOC, Surai dialed in another frequency and began ordering the two other platoons with working radios to provide support and pass the word. Luckily, one of the platoons happened to already be on the Miyamura Drive side. Troops began returning to the line if they weren't on a stairwell and firing down at the JSDF and terrorists now coming out of the building to try and take the rogue tank.

The enemy was being forced down with fire from across the road and then had incoming from directly above them top it all off, so to speak. They were caught, and all they could do was take cover or make a break to get back inside the building. It was a death trap either way.

Sergeant Adams kept his fire constant on the enemy below. He noticed that the rogue tank that Arleigh and Ryker were in was traversing its turret around 180 degrees. It was traversing to the right and around so it wouldn't hit the wall sections still up. It was about 35 degrees around when the Japanese APCs finally began to react. They both depressed their 35mm auto-cannons and traversed their turrets to the right to take aim at the rogue tank. Normally, the 35mm rounds wouldn't be much of a worry to the heavily armored Type-90, but given the extremely short range and the fact that the more thinly armored rear was exposed in full view, it was a huge worry.

Inside the tank, Rivera frantically spun the traverse control stick hoping that they would make it around in time to get a shot off at the APCs. The APCs only had to traverse 90 degrees, though, as compared to the over 100 degrees that Arleigh still had to go. They quickly took aim, only having to move 90 degrees. Both APCs were about to opens fire when several 40mm grenades impacted on their turrets. The 40mm grenades could never have pierced their armor, but they served a different purpose in this case.

Above, some Army and Marine grenadiers cheered. They had dropped their remaining 40mm grenades on the APCs to try and knock out their external aiming devices. The primary aiming cameras were completely obliterated by the grenades on both APCs. Inside, the crews quickly tried to switch over to manual sights. The APC closer to Arleigh and Al tried to fire, but the computer showed a cannon malfunction. One of the grenades had managed to crack the thinner barrel of the 35mm cannon. Swearing, the crew switched over to its anti-tank missiles, but the computer rejected that. They were too close to their target.

By that time, the two Deltas were almost completely traversed. Just a few more degrees to go, but the APC farther away had already switched to manual and was firing its cannon. The first rounds went too far above the tank, but that was because the APC was trying to gauge the height of the other armored vehicle beside it. Slowly, it depressed its cannon, bring the 35mm rounds closer and closer to the top of the Type-90.

"Fire in the hole!" Arleigh depressed the fire button while still traversing slightly. The Sabot round's charge exploded, thrusting the tank backwards, or, rather, forwards, given the orientation of the turret. Tungsten carbide met the first APC on the side above the second starboard firing port in the troop compartment. The dart pierced the armor and slashed through the troop compartment before exiting the other side, but the dart had so much momentum that it easily lanced through the second APC, entering through he left front side of the turret. Both APCs detonated in a massive twin explosion. What was rest of the wall along Miyamura came crumbling down to the foundation.

"Woohoo!" Arleigh whooped in joy as the two APCs continued to burn violently, 35mm rounds cooking off like string firecrackers. Ryker was feeling pretty good, too. 'Maybe I will live through this little stunt.' The sound of enemy bullets pinging off of the hull sent both of them hurtling back into reality, though. They still had to figure out a way to out. They could just traverse the turret another 90 degrees and engage the enemies with the coax machine gun along the main cannon, but the enemy was too close to have an effect. The turret couldn't compete with the movement of a human at only a couple tens of meters away.

"I'm going to use the fifty on top! Use the coax!" yelled Ryker as he popped the turret hatch up. The enemy bullets pinged off of the front armor of the tank as Al reached up and grabbed the spade-grip of the .50-Cal. He lunged up and grabbed the charging lever with his right hand and dropped down, using his weight to pull it back and chamber a new 12.7mm round in the breach. Firmly gripping both handles, Ryker jumped up on the seat and depressed the trigger. Rounds spewed forth at the enemy forces being shot at now from three sources. Ryker swept the gun back and forth over the enemies, trying to keep them at bay while the other two teams focused on individual targets. No matter how many other guns were firing, the sound and power of a .50-Cal was enough to keep anyone cowering.

Down below, Arleigh was adjusting to the picture the advanced thermal sights gave him. A short ways away, he saw that the troops were bunched up in different areas behind debris. While anyone else might not have been able to see them, he could with the sights. He flipped on his radio and began relaying positions back to Ryker and any Deltas in the building above. "Two guys with machine guns behind the damaged garage door propped against the wall!"

Ryker, above, replied over the com in a tense voice, "Acknowledged!" before swinging the heavy machine gun around and engaging the team. All he saw was a garage door resting against the wall, probably blown there by the force of the explosions that leveled the wall a few hours earlier. But not doubting the thermal sights, he opened fire. The heavy shells tore through the thin metal of the door and began exploding pieces of concrete on the side of the building. A body slumped out from behind the door and Al knew that he had hit his targets.

Arleigh traversed the turret while firing the coax gun continuously. In the thermal sight he noticed a pair of soldiers inside the building moving around near a window with a long cylindrical object. The heat given off by their touching of the object betrayed what it was. "Shit! RPG! One o'clock! Inside the wall, two windows down from the door!"

Ryker began blasting the wall with the .50-Cal near the window area. The rounds easily penetrated the wall and destroyed anything on the other side. Arleigh also added to the destruction with the 7.62mm fire from the coax machine gun. Slowly but surely, along with Adams, Chavez, and the defenders above, eliminated all of the defenders outside of the building.

"Let's get the hell out of here while we still can!" Arleigh yelled into the Delta radio. He hit Ryker's legs and repeated his call.

"Roger that! Yes, sir!" Al took his rifle off of his shoulder and then lifted himself out of the turret.

Arleigh quickly followed behind him, emerging from the hatch just in time to see another Japanese tank rounding the corner at the end of Miyamura Drive. He paled and almost fell off of the turret, but Ryker kept him balanced. The American Lieutenant unshouldered his own rifle and leapt down to the ground. His radio operator landed heavily beside him and the two took off running towards the building. They weren't more than twenty meters away when their rogue tank detonated, a Sabot round having gone through the side of the turret. "Keep running! Keep running!"

The two sprinted towards the station but stopped short of the door. Ryker went to the left and Arleigh the right. They were just about to sweep into the hallway when Arleigh's face blanched. "They're all still back in the building! Adams, Chavez, and Anton!" He looked back at the building across the street and saw that Adams and Chavez were gone. The enemy Type-90 was moving down the drive firing its coax gun into the building. Some American fire harmlessly ricocheted off of the armor as it moved closer and closer to the destroyed tank that Arleigh and Al had been in. "Damnit! No!"

Ryker punched the wall with the side of his fist. "We have to go! If we stay out here, they'll either overpower us at the door here or they'll flank around the building!" Just as Ryker finished, a JSDF Private ran out of the door towards the tank. He completely missed that Ryker and Rivera were flanking the door. They opened fire together and cut him down with rifle fire to the back. Enemy fire burst from the doorway, signaling that the enemy now knew that they were there. Probably the muzzle flashes gave it away. "Shit! It's already to late!" Ryker sprayed fire back down the hallway with his M4A1 as Arleigh looked back at the building. The Type-90 fired a high-explosive round point blank range into the building, collapsing a large portion of the upper floor.

Arleigh cursed and grabbed Ryker by the arm, pulling him along. He led Ryker in a mad dash for the tank. Along the way, Ryker slowed, reached down, and plucked a grenade from a dead JSDF soldier's web gear. Ryker caught back up, knowing that his earlier joy in still being alive was nowhere to be found now. The two reached the tank at the same time. Even without an exchange of words, the two knew exactly what they had to do. Arleigh climbed up on the rear portion while Al used the front tread as a step. They clambered up and onto the turret.

Ryker grabbed the hatch handle with both hands and lifted up with all his might. The metal disc flew up and almost sent Ryker tumbling back off the tank. Arleigh stuck his rifle barrel into the open hatch. A terrified Japanese Staff Sergeant looked straight up the barrel of Arleigh's suppressed M4A1. Without hesitation, the American pulled the trigger and sprayed the rest of the magazine into the tank commander. Beside him, Ryker pulled the pin from the grenade and chucked it into the hatch. Arleigh kicked the hatch down with his foot and the two Deltas jumped off the tank, landing in a dead run for the nearest cover. As they dove behind a pile of concrete that was once the wall, the grenade went off.

Inside the tank, the grenade instantly killed the gunner, who was already covered in the oozing blood of the tank commander. He was trying to shove the commander's body up and out when the grenade went off below him. The fragments rebounded around the compartment and set off the HEAT rounds in the ready magazine. A brilliant secondary explosion completely obliterated the tank, catapulting the turret through the air, where it landed on the wreckage of the two burning hulks of the APCs.

Arleigh yelled to Ryker, "Come on!" and the two took off back for the building to see where Adams, Antonelli, and Chavez were. They sped past the burning tank and into the alley beside the building. The front was completely demolished by the explosion. They burst through the side entrance and rushed for the stairwell, but it was collapsed. No way up. "Damnit! Damnit! Damnit!" Arleigh kicked the wall and tried to figure out a way around all the wreckage that the tank explosion had caused. Just then, three shadowy figures emerged from the smoke billowing around the second floor landing of the stairs. It looked like the one in the middle was trying to support at least one of the others.

"Hey! Lieutenant! We're up here!" Antonelli yelled down. "Sir! Adams and Chavez are hit! How do we get down?" The smoke curled around the Italian's face, obscuring it, but his yelling produced enough air force to blow some of it away.

Arleigh and Al looked up in astonishment. "How bad are they hit?" yelled Ryker.

"Don't listen to a damn word this idiot says! I am perfectly fine!" Adams yelled back, his M240 resting over his right shoulder.

"Bullshit! You can't support your own weight!" Anton retorted, trying to shift his own body underneath Adams' arm.

"Screw you! I'll do it myself! No Marine gets help from a freakin' Army puke." The grizzly Marine Sergeant shook his arm off of the Army Medic's back. Adams pulled the charging lever on the M240 and sneered at Antonelli. "I can do it." It was obvious that he was favoring his left leg. The uniform around the leg was torn and appeared to be soaked with blood.

"I'm okay, sir, I can still do my job!" That was Chavez. He held S.A.W.'s pistol grip limply in his left hand while he supported the bulk of the gun on his curled-up right arm. "Just a little shrapnel to my left arm. I can still walk." The Marine Lance Corporal stood up after leaning on the wall for support. "Marines don't ask for help from Army guys."

Army Specialist, Fourth Class Mario Antonelli just shook his head. "What the hell did I do to you two?"

"Shit. Hold on! We'll figure this out somehow." Arleigh looked around at the wreckage and located some things that were of use. "Give me a hand, Sergeant!" he called to Ryker. The two grabbed some pieces of floorboards that had collapsed from the floor above when the joists gave way. The stacked several on top of each other, and crawled up on top of the pile of debris, laying them diagonally up to the landing above. "Hurry up! Climb down! Wait, no, toss your gear down first!"

The three stranded soldiers dropped their weapons and packs down to the Deltas, who put everything to the side of the debris. Then they took turns slowly sliding down the boards to Arleigh and Al. "Come on! Hurry!" Once all three were down, they grabbed their packs and weapons and made their way to the door. "Okay, we got two choices, guys. Another building or the station," Arleigh peeked around the door frame and up and down the alley.

Without hesitation, all four Americans responded, "The station."

Adams spoke for the group. "I am not doing that crap again. That tank had its barrel almost right in the goddamn window! I don't care what anyone else does, I'm going back into that station where it's safe! You see them trying to blow that place up? Hell no!" Adams tried to hide his limp as he pushed past Rivera and started down the alley to Miyamura Drive. The firing was dying down around the station as the Japanese tried to regroup after the short but incredibly intense battle that cost them four tanks and two APCs. That was a serious blow to their defense. Sergeant Adams turned back around. "Well? Anyone else coming? Hmm? Lieutenant?"

Arleigh just rolled his eyes. "You know, under normal circumstances, this would constitute as insubordination, but I don't think anyone really gives a flying crap right now." The Lieutenant followed the Marine down the alley to the corner. Ryker, Antonelli, and Chavez were right behind with their weapons at the ready.

Peering around the corner in opposite directions, Adams and Rivera scanned for enemy presence. They weren't ready to come back around the corners yet, apparently. No one was there. "Okay, we have to hurry," said Arleigh. He grabbed the radio handset from his back, since the radio was now back in his possession. "Alpha Six this is Delta Five-One. We're attempting to get back into the station. Entering from that same place on Miyamura Drive. Make sure your guys down there know. Over."

"Copy that, Five-One. They already know. Hurry the hell up before the enemy retakes the street. Over."

"We know, acknowledged. Five-One out." He put the handset back on its holder and gave everyone the thumbs up. "Adams and Ryker stay to cover. Anton and Chavez on me. When we get to the station, we cover Adams and Ryker. Let's go!" Arleigh sprinted across the road with Antonelli and Chavez in tow. They took some light fire from either of the street, but nothing came close. Back at the building, Adams and Ryker laid down suppressive fire. Once across, Rivera poured fire into the doorway while Chavez and Antonelli put their own suppressive fire down. Ryker grabbed Adams' arm despite the Marine's protest and helped him limp across the street.

Everyone made it across safely. While everyone checked ammo, Rivera continued to fire random shots into the hall. "Okay, here's the plan: Kill anything that moves. When we get to the closest stairwell, stop shooting. Everyone understand?" He got four acknowledgements. "Good." Just before Arleigh entered the door, he looked at Chavez. "Javier, give me the S.A.W."

"What?" The Hispanic machine gunner gave the officer an incredulous look.

"Just do it." He tossed Chavez his M4A1 and ripped the S.A.W. from his hands. "Here." He took off his only remaining pouches of rifle magazines and handed them to Chavez, and in turn took the only belt-box of M249 ammo that was left. "I'm taking the lead in there and I want all the firepower I can get." He checked the gun. "Okay, 200 rounds in the box and about 180 rounds left in the gun. Let's ride!"

Ryker yelled "Hoo-ah!" just as Arleigh spun around the doorframe and opened fire. He was right behind the officer, who was firing the machine gun in bursts at shadows he saw down the hall. Ryker fired over his commander's head. The suppressed M4A1 wasn't as psychologically impacting as the S.A.W., but his rounds were far more accurate, taking out a few enemies stupid enough not to fire from cover. Behind him, Chavez helped Adams limp down the hall while Antonelli provided rear-guard for the team with one of the M4A1s he had, firing a few bursts back out the door to keep anyone out there at bay.

Arleigh advanced in a crouch, firing the M249. The roar of the gun was amplified by the close quarters of the hall, but that was the point. It was intimidating as well as deadly. A few bursts to the right sliced and diced a chair that a terrorist was using as cover. While moving forward, Arleigh was cycling the floor plans of the station through his mind. 'Stairwell to the left up here in a small side hallway. Yes, there it is! I can see the opening in the wall!' He fired until the belt was completely dry, spraying it back and forth across the hall. "I'm empty! Cover me!" Ryker and Chavez stood over him firing their rifles while Rivera quickly reloaded the last belt of ammo for the light machine gun.

"Stairwell! Eight meters! Left side in a hall!" Arleigh got back up and moving. His suppressive fire kept several enemies at bay who were trying to get clean shots from cover past the stair hall. The Lieutenant jumped up and ran the last few feet, skidding to a halt at the corner. "Cover me!" He spun on his heels and leaned out into the hallway at a very low level, spraying fire from the S.A.W. every which way. The panic shots of the three enemies in the hallway all went wide or above him as he cut them down mercilessly. "It's clear!" Arleigh spun back and motioned Adams and Chavez forward. "You two first! Go! Go!"

"No, sir! You first!" Adams retorted. He was on his good knee, firing the M240 down the hall. The medium machine gun chewed holes in the walls and floor, sending enemies fleeing for cover.

Arleigh grabbed the Sergeant by his web-gear. "No macho shit now, Sarge! Move your ass! That's a direct order!" Pulling hard, the Lieutenant got Adams to his feet before shoving him around the corner and down the hallway. "Go! And remember to identify yourself before going up!"

Adams wanted to stay, but felt it was better to follow the order at the moment. Chavez soon followed after Rivera took his M4A1 back. The two Marines shuffled down the hallway with their machine guns towards the stairwell.

Rivera brought up his M4A1 and shot a few rounds down the hallway. "Antonelli! You're next! Get going, SpecFour!" He fired another five-round burst. Ryker continued to provide covering fire as Antonelli fired one last burst back down the hall and took off around the corner, catching up to the Marines who were just getting to the stairs.

Adams stuck his head by the door and bellowed. "U.S! U.S! Don't shoot! We're Americans!"

Back came the response, "Marine motto!"

"Semper Fidelis! Always Faithful! Now let us up there without you shooting us, damnit!" Adams leaned heavily on the door. He looked up when a head popped down from the lip of the ceiling, which was the landing of the next level up.

"Good to see ya, Sarge!"

"Martin! Damnit! They didn't get you yet? Ooh-rah!" Adams smiled and limped to the stairs, Chavez and Antonelli close behind.

At the corner, Arleigh and Al made sure that the team was clear and moving upstairs. "Ryker! Let's move! You first!"

"No way, sir! You go!" To keep Rivera from responding, Ryker used his body to push Rivera away from the corner. "Go!" The return fire was becoming more and more intense. Ryker quickly reloaded. "Last mag! Hurry the hell up, sir!" Enemies were leapfrogging towards the hall.

Rivera wanted to protest, but he didn't, allowing the Sergeant, First Class to do as he wanted. Just as he began to run back down the hall, he heard Ryker yell in pain. First Lieutenant Arleigh Rivera stopped dead in his tracks and looked back. Ryker was sliding down the wall, a blood streak being painted on it by a hole in Ryker's shoulder. More blood oozed from a hole in his left leg. "Al! No!" He ran back down the hall and grabbed Ryker's web gear.

The big Sergeant struggled to get up with Arleigh's help. "No! Go, damnit!" A team of enemies had flanked around the building and was coming down the hall the way the team had come. He had been hit in the back first, spun around, and hit in the leg while he was trying to slide back into the hall.

Arleigh fired his rifle on auto in one hand and dragged Ryker back with the other. Ryker was firing his rifle from his sitting position. Their rifles ran dry at the same time. Arleigh stooped down and grabbed Ryker by the leg and shoulder. With all the strength he had left, Rivera heaved up on Ryker and lifted him off the ground. He bent down even more and got Ryker on his own shoulder. "Hold on, Al!" Arleigh stood up and stumbled through the door a few meters behind him. Enemy fire reached out at them as Arleigh stepped up gingerly on the steps.

"Out of my goddamn way!" yelled a voice up above. Arleigh shifted his eyes up and saw Anderson, Jones, and Smith bounding down the stairs. Jones stopped by Rivera and helped lift Ryker, who was slipping from Rivera's grip. Anderson and Smith slid past Rivera and continued to the stairwell door. They flanked the door and began firing M4A1s at the enemies chasing the Delta Force personnel down the hall. After two magazines each, they got began falling back up the stairs. As a last measure, Sergeant, First Class David Smith grabbed two grenades from his web-gear, cooked them, and chucked them down the hallway. Both exploded and sent debris back through the door, but all enemy fire ceased from that hall.

Arleigh felt his knees beginning to give out as he came up the final step to the second floor. Before he could fall, Jones and Anderson took Ryker off of Rivera's back. Smith covered their retreat with some Marines and Army troopers while Rivera collected a few magazines of ammo from the troops with M4A1s.

Anderson and Jones took Ryker down the hall a short way and put him through a hole in the wall, which opened into one of the makeshift aid stations. Army Specialist, Fourth Class Ryan Ida immediately set to work stripping Ryker's gear off. "Give me some space! No, wait, Sergeant, please hold his wound while I patch his shoulder." He motioned to Jones. While Jones applied pressure to the wound in Ryker's leg, Ida wrapped a field dressing around Ryker's shoulder. "Hey, Sarge, you know you're really lucky. They're both in-and-out wounds." Ida patted Ryker on the shoulder and then moved down to the leg wound.

Ryker gritted his teeth in pain. "Lucky? Easy for you to say." The Delta Sergeant kept clutching the table to prevent from passing out. He shook his head while Ida used his last bandage to plug Ryker's leg wound. "Damnit."

Rivera and Smith poked their heads through the hole in the wall. "Wow, looks pretty bad in here. Mind if we come in?" quipped Dave Smith.

"Sure, come right ahead, Smitty," responded Ryker, managing to bark out the reply hoarsely. "The more D-Boys the merrier." The two other Deltas came into the aid station and stood next to the table Ryker was on. Al Ryker looked up at his commanding officer. "Sorry for screwing up, sir."

Arleigh just raised his eyebrows. "Huh? Sorry for what? You got shot. Oh well. It happens. No need to apologize. If you hadn't stayed, I would've been the one who got shot. So think of it as doing me a favor, Al."

"Yeah, I'll be sure to remember that, Riv." Ryker managed a faint smile. "Always ready to serve."

"Yup. That's what Delta is all about," remarked Anderson.

Arleigh smiled. "Yes, it sure is, Master Sergeant Anderson. It sure is." Turning to Smith, he said. "Now, Dave, what the hell are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be on the roof with the snipers."

"Oh, I conned Horner into doing it for me. I wanted to come down here for a change and get to see the light show you guys put on earlier." The Californian master sniper just smiled broadly.

"Yeah, that was pretty good, L-T," said Jones. His own bandaged wound was in plain view.

Anderson just sighed and smiled. "Always has to be big and flashy with you, Arleigh." Usually in Delta Force there was no use of ranks in common speech between Deltas. But the team respected Arleigh so much that they couldn't help but use it sometimes. Anderson was a crusty old Delta, though. He never followed that.

"Damn straight, Jake." Arleigh slung his rifle over his shoulder. "Stealing one of their tanks and nailing them in surprise. Blindside, baby, blindside. Hoo-ah!" Arleigh did a V-for-Victory sign with his left hand. "Okay, time to go explain myself to the Captain and command. Anyone up for that?"

"Hell no! I've been shot at enough today!" yelled Ryker. The Delta Sergeant sulked on the table and crossed his arms over his chest. "No friggin' way."

Arleigh looked at the other Deltas. "Anyone?" He got three negatives. "Traitors."

Across the room, Adams had been listening in on the conversation. "I'll go, sir!"

"Jesus! You take this Army/Marine rivalry way too seriously! Sit down and take a rest, Sarge! And get that leg looked at!" Arleigh shook his head. "Jarheads. All of them, I swear, are even more nuts that I am. And that's saying a lot."

Smith shook his head. "No way, no one is as crazy as you, L-T."

"Thanks, Dave. That wasn't meant to be reaffirmed." Arleigh smiled and shook his head. "All right, I'm going to go explain this mess. Occupy yourselves, boys." Rivera left the aid station and headed for the stairwell and the TOC. 'Blindsided. Hoo-ah!'

* * *

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	16. Sight for Sore Eyes

**The Siege**

**Chapter 16: Sight for Sore Eyes**

By JagdPanther

In the basement of the station, a Navy Corpsman, Petty Officer, Second Class Williams, worked feverishly on the mounting casualties. The firefight was still going on outside the cafeteria, he was running dangerously low on medical supplies, and the casualties just kept coming. By now he had to start discriminating on whom to treat. The most heavily wounded were the first the to be treated. Everyone was SOL until the worst were taken care of.

Williams noticed a group of Marines and Army troops bring several bodies into the room. 'God, no. Not more.' He gestured for them to come over. "Over here! Put them here!" The Corpsman pointed to a table that was cleared off and directed the soldiers over.

"We've got five live ones, Doc. This one is dead." The trooper motioned to the body of an Army Private, First Class slung over his shoulder. "Some Army guys and two Japanese women. All unconscious."

"Just put them down here." Williams wasn't even emotional about it anymore. He was just on autopilot. He'd never seen a scene this bad for dead and wounded ever before. "Okay, who's hurt the worst?" he said to no one in particular. Fishing his penlight off of his web-gear belt, Williams leaned over the body of a young U.S. Army Private. The Navy medical man lifted the soldier's eyelids back and played the penlight over the eyes. "Dilating well. He's stable, I think." He pulled back the trooper's uniform to see two no wounds. "Where's he hit?" Williams turned the soldier over. "Ah, hell." There were two in-only bullet wounds in the shoulder and back areas. "Someone apply pressure to this one's wounds and find me some bandages. Just pressure them. His pupils would tell me if it was really, really bad. Not too much bleeding, either. "

The Corpsman continued his work. Next he checked the two older Army soldiers. They appeared to be dressed like the Delta Force operatives. "These two are okay. In-and-out wounds. Someone wake them up." He tossed smelling salts to the Marine who had returned after setting down the dead Army PFC. "Use these. Then give them some water and patch the wounds with strips of cloth. This one already patched his own wounds, it looks like."

"This is crap," muttered the Corpsman as he moved on to the two women. "Women getting shot in this. Why? Just why?" But he continued anyway. The black-haired woman had two bullet wounds to the upper torso area and some grenade fragments in her legs. It looked like there more fragments stopped in her flak vest in front. "Damn, she's in pretty bad shape. I'm going to need any plasma left. Someone find me plasma!" Steve Williams shuffled over to the brown-haired woman next. "Pupils dilating. Wounds to the shoulder and" he was cut short by the woman herself.

"What are you doing to me?" yelled Natsumi, grabbing Williams' arm and reaching for a pistol that was no longer in her holster. "Get away!"

"Hey! Hey! Calm down! Listen to me! Calm down! Miss!" Williams forced her arm back down while another police officer came over and held her body down. "Calm down! I'm trying to help you! Don't fight me! Your body can't take the stress!" He leaned heavily on her to keep her down.

Natsumi relented finally after recognizing that the Corpsman wasn't a JSDF soldier or terrorist and was actually the Corpsman from yesterday that she had met. Feeling the pain in her shoulder and back again, she started to drift off, but the Navy man slapped her cheeks a bit to get her attention.

"Hey! Don't faint on me! Do not do it! You stay awake, you hear me?" Williams unzipped her flak jacket and began taking it off of her while the police officer tried to put pressure on the wounds. "Stay with me, lady."

She fought hard to stay awake. "Ah, it hurts so bad," she whimpered. More blood oozed out of her bullet wounds. "It hurts so bad." Natsumi winced while Williams tore up a tablecloth and wrapped it around her shoulder.

"Just stay calm and try not to move, okay? You'll be fine." Williams turned around and saw an Army PFC return with a bottle of blood plasma. "Good! You found some!"

"Yeah, the last one I could find," responded the trooper.

"Well, that sucks. But I need it anyway. Okay, someone give me a hand with this one!" Williams took his last IV needle and tube out of his medical kit and began the transfusion into Miyuki's arm. She was losing blood fast. "Okay, patching the back and shoulder first. Leg wounds aren't too bad."

Before then, Natsumi hadn't even noticed that she was lying next to Miyuki on the table. When she did, she flipped out. "Miyuki! Oh my God! No!" She tried to sit up and hold her friend and partner, but a soldier forced her back down. "No! Let go of me!"

"Someone get her out of here! Now!" yelled Williams. He gestured for the Marine to move her away, but Natsumi just clamped her hand to Miyuki's and wouldn't let go. "Ah, damnit. I'm out of cloth." He looked around and couldn't see anything. "Hell." The Corpsman undid his flak jacket's zipper and dropped it. Next came his BDU top. Underneath was his gray NAVY T-shirt. Williams took that off and began tearing it into strips with the aid of surgical scissors. "Just keep her calm," he said, gesturing to Natsumi. "Your friend is going to be fine. She will not die on my watch."

The words didn't calm Natsumi too much, but just enough for her breathing to go back down to normal. "You make sure of that! She's my partner!" Natsumi couldn't bear not being able to do anything for her friend, no matter how much she wanted to. With her wounds, she was in danger of passing out at any moment, just as she was about to now. Her vision blurred a bit, but she fought back and tried to stay awake. It wouldn't work. She passed out from the stress she had caused herself and slumped back down onto the cold, hard table surface.

"Wonderful," muttered Williams as he fastened his shredded shirt around Miyuki's shoulder with a knot. "Keep an eye on that one, I don't need her going on me." The Corpsman was getting more and more flustered by the minute. "Okay, her back and shoulder are okay. Now to clamp the legs up." Williams cut Miyuki's pant legs with his scissors and found the fragment wounds. "Woah, got some fragments on the surface. Going to try and remove them." He located his forceps in his medical kit and carefully began to remove to fragments that had stopped near the surface of her leg. "Okay, this is going to get a bit messy with blood, but its better than leaving this crap in her leg." The two metal fragments came out easily with only minor bleeding. "Need more cloth! More cloth!"

Williams commandeered more T-shirts from other soldiers and tied off the wounds to Miyuki's leg. "Someone just keep this plasma container up. She needs it, bad." Without any further words, Williams left to take care of the next casualties just coming in. 'What with?' he thought, moving away from the table. "I need more medical supplies! When is that damn reaction force getting here?" he bellowed.

Just as he left, Aoi and Yoriko happened by the table with Miyuki and Natsumi on it. They were carrying water canteens from the kitchen area to another medic on the other side of the cafeteria. Yoriko was the first to notice. "Oh my God! Natsumi! Miyuki!" The canteens she had been carrying clattered to the floor and came to rest in a heap. She rushed around to the other end of the table, past the police officer holding up the plasma bottle for Miyuki, and took Natsumi's hand. "Speak to me!"

Aoi came around, too, and put her hand on Yoriko's shoulder. "My God. They both look so pale. What happened to them?"

The other police officer spoke up. "The American said that they were shot twice and both took some grenade fragments. He said Officer Kobayakawa is worse off. She lost a lot of blood. They are both very weak right now, though, so he would rather them be unconscious so they don't strain themselves. He wants me to keep an eye on both of them so they don't slip off while they're sleeping." His tone was very low and seemed full of dejection. "I hope they'll both be okay."

"If they don't make it, I don't know what I'll do with myself." Aoi said, trailing off towards the end. Yoriko just pouted next to her. They both looked up to the other two officers so much, and now they were unconscious, wounded severely, in the basement of the station with the battle still raging on. "Ken, the Chief, and Arleigh will be crushed when they find out."

"Miyuki! Natsumi!" Yoriko continued to squeeze Natsumi's hand. She didn't want to disturb Miyuki's arms, since the one closer to Yoriko was the one with the plasma being induced into it. "Please don't die."

Natsumi's eyes fluttered back open and she groaned softly as Yoriko rested her head on Natsumi's hand, still crying. "Hey, hey. What's this about dying?" she managed to squeak out. She felt even more terrible than she had a few minutes before when she almost killed Williams.

"Natsumi!" Aoi yelped. "You're awake!"

"Yeah, sort of." Her voice was very weak. "I feel like hell." She turned her head slightly and saw the other officer holding the bottle of plasma up. "How is she? Is she going to be okay?"

"For right now, yes. The American said that she lost a lot of blood and he was kind enough to give her the last bottle of blood plasma. He also said that she's much worse off than you are. I think that she needs to be evacuated soon. But there is no way that we can do that."

Natsumi's eye lids closed a bit while she pondered that. "Please don't die, Miyuki. Please." A tear began to form at the corner of her eye. "Why did this have to happen? If I would've reacted faster I could have pushed her clear."

"Officer Tsujimoto, it wasn't your fault!" Delta Sergeant Carlson was conscious again. The smelling salts had quickly brought him grunting back to life. Now he was seated on the edge of the table massaging his wounded legs, trying not to let the wounded parts touch any surface. "You can't blame yourself for that. What happened is what happened. There was nothing you could've done to change it. I wish I could've done something to help Chris, but I couldn't. He got shot. It happens." The other Delta in question was still a bit woozy, lying on the table to Carlson's side, trying to blink away the stars circling around his eyes.

"But I know if I would've just been faster..."

"No. You did what you could and that's that. She will be fine. As long as nothing else happens to her, she'll be fine. We just all have to keep an eye on her. And you, too. You're in pretty bad shape yourself. Just rest. Try not to talk or move. Wastes energy." Carlson sipped at some water that a Marine had brought over a few minutes before. "Ah, hell, my legs hurt. I took a crap-load of shrapnel."

She didn't want to hear that she couldn't have done any more, but deep in her mind she knew that she had done her best and at least Miyuki was still alive, albeit barely. "It feels like my shoulder is on fire."

"Just hang in there, Officer. You did great out there today." Carlson reached over and patted her on the shoulder. "Made me and the other Americans real proud."

Tsujimoto managed a faint smile before she drifted off again.

"I sure as hell hope that neither of them had their femoral or radial arteries hit, because they both got hit right in those two areas," quipped Carlson to Stevens in English. They hoped that none of the three Japanese nearby spoke English so as not to alarm them.

"They'd be able to tell from the amount of bleeding, right?" responded Stevens, trying to sit up.

"Not necessarily. Could be internal."

Chris Stevens propped himself up on the table. "God, I hope not. Those two were great out there."

"Yeah." Steve

* * *

Ken Nakajima and Kachou continued to hold one of the ends of corridor East-15 with a small group of Americans. Both were using AK-74 rifles commandeered from the cache found several days before the siege of the station began. They had reloaded their stock of ammo from the bodies of terrorists who happened to also be using AKs.

Some concrete fragments rained down on Ken's head as several bullets impacted on the wall across from him. He was in cover but the enemy was still shooting suppressive fire, and their shots were kicking debris up all over the place. "We keep running low on ammo. When are they going to run low?" he said over the noise to Kachou.

"Probably not soon. They have tons of the stuff upstairs in their vehicles. Plus they can take all they want from all the dead bodies around the station. Plenty of ammunition there." Kachou stuck his rifle around the corner and fired a burst blindly back at the enemies.

"Give up, Americans! We won't hurt you! We just want the building! You will be treated fairly!" shouted a voice from down the hall.

"Bullshit!" yelled Nakajima, firing his own AK-74 blindly.

"Ah! Japanese police! Join us! Don't fight for the Americans! They are just using you for their own agenda!"

Kachou reloaded his AK after another burst of fire. "Like you wouldn't?" He turned to Nakajima. "Who the hell do these guys think they are?"

"No idea. Don't care, either, Chief. They're shooting at me, that's all I know."

Next to them, one of the Marines asked what was going on since he couldn't understand Japanese. Kachou explained to the Americans what had just happened.

"'We won't hurt you,' huh? How many times has that been said in history right before they shove the gun barrel down your throat?" The Marine Private, First Class just shook his head and smiled. "American agenda. I love it. Makes me feel important."

The stalemate continued on for some time. Neither side made any moves for over an hour. Just bursts of fire were traded. The lull in fierce fighting from earlier gave the medics a chance to catch up on all the casualties that had come in. It was also a great chance for the defenders to reorganize and spread everyone back out evenly. The western edge of the defense was terribly thinned out from the assaults on it. Where Miyuki and Natsumi had been was actually the better off part of the team.

Around 0600 the enemy began to assault again, but they found that the defenders had regrouped. It was their own stupidity costing them the battle. The enemy had had more than enough troops to overrun the station hours and hours earlier, but they chose to keep stopping and starting, regrouping themselves, but also letting the defenders regroup. The key to any attack was to not let up on the defense.

Nakajima batted another grenade away from the corner while a Marine leaned over him, firing his M-16A2 at the enemy. Some RPK machine gun rounds reached out at him, but PFC Clark ducked back around the corner before the enemy gunner could walk his fire into the target. Nakajima sprayed more fire down the hall blindly while Clark reloaded his rifle.

"Romo, take Schippins with you and go get some ammo. We're running low again. Beg, borrow, and steal anything you can from the wounded." Clark pulled the charging lever back and chambered a round. "Ooh-rah." Another burst sent some enemies scurrying for cover in the halls. It fell quiet again, with only a few more shots being fired singly.

"Okay, be right back." PFC Romolusa, known to his buddies as Romo, came up from his crouch and moved back down to the cafeteria with Private Schippins. Along the way they passed other teams holding the halls. They arrived at the cafeteria just in time to see Sergeant Lennox leaving with two belts of machine gun ammo draped over his arms.

"Where the hell are you two going?" Lennox deadpanned. "Get back to the line before I tell the L-T to court martial you."

"S-Sarge, C-Clark sent us to get more a-ammo. We're running low out on the line." Romo stuttered out. He, along with just about everyone else in the 3rd Platoon, was scared to death of Lennox.

Sergeant Dale Lennox didn't seem to believe them at first, but he smiled, eventually. "I was just kidding. Lighten up, son." Lennox walked off, yelling and raising hell, just for the fun of it. "Do not back down, Marines! Don't let these Army jackasses show you up!" A few Army troopers flipped Lennox the middle finger as he chortled, still carrying the ammo belts.

"That guy has issues," mentioned Schippins to Romo as he went over to a pile of bandoleers and picked out several magazines of M-16A2 ammo. He also found a couple grenades and took them. "Here, Romo. I am going to trade my M-16 in for this S.A.W." Surprisingly, there was an M249 buried under all the ammo hauled over by the medics, taken from the wounded. He hefted the light machine gun and all the ammo boxes he could find, which was only two full and the one used one in the gun already. "Now I've got some firepower."

The two quickly returned to their position and forked over some of the ammo to Clark. "Hey, I'm a PFC, too. Why did I have to go get the ammo?" asked Romo as he helped Clark put M-16 magazines into Clark's ammo pouches.

"I joined before you, that's why. I'm up for Lance Corporal, you know."

"Oh, really? Sucks for you."

"Why?"

"Why? Because of the responsibility. You? Responsibility? Hah." Romo quickly leaned around the corner and fired a couple of three-round bursts before Clark could respond. "I'd love to see you try and lead a squad."

"Shut up."

Kachou looked over at Ken while the Marines continued to bicker. "Hey, I am going to go get some more ammo for us, too. I'll be right back."

"Okay, Chief." Ken nodded and resumed his stance near the corner, ready to fire another burst.

The Chief walked into the cafeteria and looked around for any AK ammo. He found some over near where the Americans had their ammo. Some other police officers had managed to strip AK ammo from dead terrorists when they were pulling back. There were only six magazines, but it would sustain the two officers for some while longer, at least one more major push by the enemy. Then they would have to start using American weapons the wounded weren't using. Just as he was about to leave, he spotted Yoriko and Aoi over by the wall. He decided to check up on them, since he hadn't physically checked on them in hours. "Yoriko! Aoi! How is everything going? Are you all right?" When he got closer, his heart skipped a beat. "Oh my God." The sight of Natsumi and Miyuki on the table almost made him fall over. "What happened to them?"

Yoriko looked up and said in a weak, monotonous voice, "They were both shot. The American medic said they are stable, but they need more medical attention soon. He said Miyuki lost a lot of blood. They used the last blood plasma they had on her. She hasn't woken up since they brought her in here."

"And what about Tsujimoto?"

"She's been awake off and on, Chief," replied Aoi. "They're both very weak. They both need rest and blood transfusions. And there is shrapnel in them, so they need to get that removed."

The Chief had to prop himself up on a nearby table. He could remember talking to both of them only a few hours before, telling them how much it would crush him if they were hurt. Their acknowledgements of understanding resonated through his head. Slowly, he stood back up and backed away.

Yoriko raised her eyebrow. "Chief, are you all right? You look terrible."

"Yes, Yoriko, I'm fine. I just need to get back to the line." He gulped and grabbed a canteen from a table. Unscrewing the cap, he chugged as much as he could. "I can't tell Ken about this. It will kill him faster than the enemy will." Kachou took some more canteens from the table and made his way silently out of the cafeteria to his position. Along the way, he tried to compose himself. 'Can't tell him. Can't tell him.' When he got back, he said, "Ken, Miyuki got shot twice. She's unconscious." After he finished, he realized that his mouth had just worked independently of his brain. 'Oh, hell.'

"What!" shouted Ken. He slumped back against the wall as Clark and Schippins fired their rifles down the hall at random intervals. "How? Is she okay?"

He knew now that he'd have to say everything. "She's unconscious. Apparently, she lost a lot of blood. They got some plasma into her, but she needs medical treatment soon." Kachou sighed as he tossed some magazines to Nakajima along with a canteen. "Natsumi is out, too. They're both in bad shape. Aoi and Yoriko are with them." He handed the Marines the remaining canteens. They were all pretty low on water.

Ken just sat, stunned, against the wall with his AK resting on his knees. "Chief, can I do check on her, please? I just need to do it to keep myself from going nuts."

"Go ahead, Nakajima." The Chief knew that Ken cared with his entire heart for Miyuki. No matter how much he denied it, everyone knew. "Do what you have to do."

"Thank you, Chief."

* * *

Across the east half of the first lower level, Officer Hideki Honda woke up. Squinting, he looked around in the darkness. He could just make out the shape of some other bodies lining the wall. He figured that he must have been moved by the terrorists or JSDF to clear the hall. Honda slowly craned his neck to look back down the hallway. It seemed clear. Just then, a JSDF soldier came down the stairs and began walking towards him. Honda quickly shut his eyes and tried to remain perfectly still. The sound of footsteps got closer and closer until they were right next to him. Then they stopped.

Something fell to the floor right beside Honda's face. A gloved hand brushed his nose, causing it to twitch. 'Oh no! Don't sneeze! Not now!' With all his willpower, he tried to keep from sneezing. He won out. The walking never restarted, though. 'Damn, did he still notice me?' Slowly opening his eye closer to the ground, he looked out from the slit in his eyelid. The JSDF soldier was just standing there. From the way his feet were oriented, Honda judged that he was probably looking somewhere else. Then he heard the sound of a lighter being struck. Opening his other eye, Honda rolled his eyes up and saw the soldier trying to light a cigarette. 'Whew.'

A terrorist came down the stairs a few moments later, the JSDF officer still smoking in the hallway. Honda remained perfectly still as the other footsteps got closer. They stopped farther away this time. Hideki heard the click of a rifle's fire-mode selector switch. 'What's going on?' he thought.

All of the sudden, a shot rang on in the hallway. The JSDF soldier spun around and saw the terrorist standing over the body of one of the Marines. The Type-89's barrel was still smoking. "What the hell did you just do that for?" blurted out the JSDF soldier.

"I have steam to blow off," replied the terrorist icily. He shuffled to his right and fired once more, into another dead American. "And I don't have anyone to shoot at."

"Well then go to the line, jackass! I may not have a problem killing them, but, damnit, don't do that to their bodies!" The JSDF soldier snuffed out his cigarette on the wall and took a step towards the terrorist. "Stop."

"Make me." And the terrorist shot the next body.

Hideki realized that he was just one body away from being shot himself. Opening his eyes a bit, he saw that the JSDF soldier had his back to Hideki. 'I have to make a move or I'll die.'

The terrorist moved to the next body, right beside Honda, and shot. "I don't want to go to the line. It's worthless. They're dug in. But the Americans are attacking towards the station with armor. When we're defending, we'll slaughter them. I'll have plenty of targets. They started attacking ten minutes ago. They should be here in a couple hours. Until then, I have to work off some anger."

Just as the terrorist was about to come to Hideki, he thrust himself back with his legs and slid in-between the terrorist's legs. The terrorist yelped in surprise, and before he could react, Honda snatched the shoulder strap of his rifle and pulled it to the side, bringing it in to line with the stunned JSDF soldier. The terrorist fired out of reflex, even though the rifle wasn't aimed where it should've been. He put three rounds into the JSDF soldier's chest, sending him flying back into the wall. Honda kicked the terrorist's left leg out from under him and ripped the rifle away. Springing to his knees, Honda flipped the rifle over to automatic and pumped several rounds into the terrorist.

Hideki quickly removed the JSDF soldiers bandoleer and put in on himself. Behind him, he heard some shouting and a flashlight beam playing across the stairwell as feet rumbled down the stairs. He spun around and fired the rest of the magazine into the stairwell. A dead terrorist was flung back into the two JSDF soldiers behind him. Using the confusion to his advantage, Honda quickly reversed himself and ran around the corner while reloading the rifle. Up ahead, two JSDF soldiers were rounding another corner, coming to check out the gunfire. The sight of Honda rushing them froze them just long enough for him to bring up the rifle and spray them with several rounds each. He rushed past their bodies and down the hall. He figured that the defenders would be holding the cafeteria last, if there was anyone left at all. The sound of gunfire became louder as he moved towards the cafeteria, confirming his thoughts.

A small group of terrorists were trying to fix a broken selector lever on an AK when Honda bolted around the corner, almost into one of the terrorists. He skidded to a halt too close to them to aim properly with the rifle. Their faces were shocked as Honda brought the rifle's butt up into the chin of the nearest terrorist while spinning and kicking the second closest one in the stomach. Opening fire, he swept the rifle across the first man's chest and down across the lower body of the second man. The third man with the broken AK rushed him, but Hideki spun out of the way, firing four times into the man's back. He reloaded the rifle and pressed on towards the cafeteria, just a short hallway away. Through the smoke hovering in the hall, he saw three JSDF troops and a terrorist firing down a hall. Two of them were reloading a light machine gun while the other two covered. American medium machine gun fire and rifle fire cratered the wall near them.

Hideki got to his knees to support the rifle better, took aim, and opened fire. The two reloading the machine gun were defenseless and died quickly from Hideki's fire being walked towards them. However, the other two dove for cover and began returning fire. Hideki set himself behind some debris in the hallway and put the rifle over it, firing a burst blindly. The shouting behind him told Hideki Honda that there were also enemies closing in on him from the rear. He couldn't afford to get caught between the two groups. Deciding that two was better than an unknown number, he fired wildly, pushed himself up, and took off towards the corner in a dead run. The two remaining JSDF troops both ran dry of ammo at the same time. The first one tried to reload, but a burst from Hideki hit him in the head, killing him instantly. The other backpedaled, trying to reload, as Hideki's rifle ran out of ammo. Before the JSDF trooper could pull back the charging handle, Honda tackled him and sent them flying back. They hit the floor hard and slid out into the hall the Americans were defending.

"Cease fire! Cease fire!" yelled Army Staff Sergeant Swiatowski. "That guy's police!" Sweet jumped to his feet and rushed forward to the brawling individuals. Behind Sweet, Lennox and another Marine followed. As he approached, Sweet saw that the JSDF soldier had rolled on top of Hideki and was trying to stab him, but Hideki was fiercely grappling the man's arm, holding it back. The burly Staff Sergeant swung the big M240 machine gun into the enemy's side, sending him rolling away in a ball.

Lennox rushed past Sweet and drew his pistol. He shot the JSDF trooper three times in the chest with his Colt .45. He immediately spun back around and dropped down beside Sweet. Both began pouring fire down the hallway with their M240's on the bi-pods. Round after round of 7.62mm fire lanced down the hall, striking debris and sending it flying and nailing the enemies, who had been chasing down Hideki. The other Marine helped Hideki to his feet before they both began adding their own rifle fire to the mix. Enemies ducked and covered from the sudden onslaught of defensive fire. They retreated back down the hallway, trying to regroup. Most were cut down before they ever made it.

Hideki was reloading while Swiatowski and Lennox were feeding new belts into their medium machine guns. "Thanks for the help," Hideki said in English. He rubbed a spot on his face where the JSDF trooper had punched him. It stung a bit, but it was nothing big.

"Not a problem, buddy," replied the Marine in Japanese. "How did you get through here? That took a lot of nerve."

Officer Hideki Honda shrugged before replying. "They thought I was just a dead body. Scared the hell out of two guys before I took one of their rifles and got them, then I just ran for the cafeteria and killed anyone in my way. I figured that everyone would be defending this place last."

"Good thing the Sergeant noticed that you were a cop or we would've shot you."

The Japanese police officer smiled. "Yeah, that is a good thing." He nodded to Sweet. Just then, he remembered what the terrorist had been saying. In English, he said, "One said the Americans are coming with, uh," He couldn't think of the English word.

"Tanks?" replied Marine Corporal Josh Kagiri. He was another Japanese-American solider in Alpha Company.

"Yes, that's the word. Tanks."

Sweet and Lennox looked at each other before they replied in unison. "About damn time!" Down the hall, a JSDF soldier stuck his head out to see if the Americans were still there. The two Sergeants sprayed fire at his quickly retreating form.

"Finally, they got their attack under way. Shouldn't be too long before they get here," said Lennox. He shifted positions to take advantage of the cover the debris in the hallway provided while a few other American soldiers trotted up to reinforce the small defense team.

"Hey, guys, this officer just said that we've got armor on the way!" said Corporal Kagiri jubilantly.

Amongst the "right ons," Hoo-ahs," and "Ooh-rahs," Hideki grew a big smile. 'I can't believe I made it. Woohoo! Oh, man, I made it. What a rush.' Just as he finished that though, pain blossomed in his abdomen. Looking down, he saw a pool of red liquid coming from his stomach area. "Holy shit! I got shot!" he yelled. Honda had been on such an adrenaline high, that he didn't even notice that one of the JSDF troopers had landed a shot on him when he was rushing.

Kagiri looked down at Hideki, who was sitting against a wall. "Damn!" He slung his rifle over his shoulder and grabbed Honda. "Hey, he got shot! Someone help me get him to the aid station!" Kagiri took Hideki's right arm and shoulder while an Army trooper got the left side.

Hideki was muttering to himself the whole way to the aid station in the cafeteria. "Wow, I can't believe I didn't notice that I'd been shot." Despite the pain he felt, he was feeling good. "At least I'm not dead. Yet."

"Don't say that," replied Kagiri. "You'll be fine."

The three entered the cafeteria just in time for Navy Corpsman Williams to look in their direction. "You are kidding me." Williams shook his head and grabbed the torn t-shirts. "Okay, time to wrap some more holes in people."

* * *

Rivera arrived at the stairwell he had come up earlier while being chased by the enemies. "Hey guys, have to go upstairs. Give me some space."

An Army 25th Infantry Division trooper blocking the stairs just looked up at him. "Sorry, Lieutenant. The stairs above are collapsed. Can't walk on them without falling through back down to here." The PFC pointed up to a hole in the stairs above caused by some grenades the defenders had dropped earlier when the breaching of the outer wall had been done.

"Ouch, that sucks." He grimaced and looked back down the hall behind him. "Guess I have to find another way up." Rivera made his way back to the aid station. He couldn't use the outside hallway. It was surely covered by enemy APCs. "Thanks for telling me the stairs were gone, guys," he said to the three Deltas who had come to help Ryker and himself.

"No problem, L-T." Jones snickered after his response.

Arleigh rolled his eyes. "Right. Anyway, since I'm back here to use the many holes in the walls around here to find another stairwell, Smith, Anderson, come with me. Jones, stay here with Ryker."

"Aw, don't make me baby-sit Al, sir." Jones huffed.

"Too bad, Jonesy," quipped Ryker. "Besides, I like it when you're here."

Horrified, Jones backed away from his fellow Delta Force operative. "Oh hell no."

The Lieutenant just laughed. "You two work out your love problems. Smith, Anderson, let's go."

"Roger that," replied Anderson.

The two Deltas fell in behind Rivera as he went through a hole in the wall across the room and into another room. They crossed to another hole and entered an inner hallway. As they walked, Rivera thought he heard something above the sounds of battle a few kilometers from the station. "Uh, what was that?" All three Operators stopped as Rivera listened. "What is that sound?"

"What sound, L-T?" asked Delta Sergeant Dave Smith.

A slight ripping sound radiated from the floor. "That sound."

"Huh? I don't hear anything." Anderson gave the Lieutenant a quizzical look.

Arleigh looked down and saw several cracks forming around his feat. "Uh oh." The floor gave out from beneath their feet and collapsed down to the first floor in a thunderous crash. All three landed in a heap, tangled together. Rivera flailed around a bit before the floor of the first floor gave out, too, sending them tumbling down to the first basement level. "Ah, bloody hell," said Rivera, staring at the ceiling, not moving.

Smith groaned out, "My head hurts. Ow," while Anderson just winced in pain and rolled onto his side, clutching his left arm.

Around them, five stunned enemies just stared while the Americans tried to recuperate. All their training went right out the window as they tried to figure out how three Americans had just fallen two stories right in front of them. All one enemy could do was to walk over to the Americans and look up at the two huge holes in the ceilings above. "Wow. That must have hurt."

Arleigh heard the Japanese voice and froze. With his back to the enemies, he tried to reach for his rifle without drawing any attention. Slowly, he pushed his hand forward towards the grip of his M4A1. 'Just a little bit more. Crap.' It was just out of reach. He'd have to move and draw attention. 'Oh, to hell with this. What am I worried about? I just stole a tank and rushed through a building of enemies with four guys. This is a piece of cake.' Arleigh lunged for his rifle, grabbed it, twisted around, and opened fire just as Anderson swung around, doing the same.

The two Deltas caught the enemies by surprise. They had no idea that the Americans were capable of even moving after such a fall. Anderson and Rivera sprayed the two nearest ones with rifle fire, killing them instantly. The other three tried to bring up their weapons, but Smith got to his rifle finally and played it across them, dropping two while Anderson and Rivera got the third.

They all slowly stood themselves up, despite the pain. "I can hardly walk," squeaked Smith.

"My ass hurts," said Anderson. He reloaded his M4A1 and rubbed just above his pelvis. "Damnit."

"Hell." Arleigh started to walk away when he heard Japanese voice. 'Oh, yeah. Enemies.' "Stay alert! Come on!" He grabbed Anderson and Smith and pushed them along the hall. They quickly oriented themselves. "Where are we?" Arleigh looked at the hall to try and recognize it. "Uh, cafeteria this way." He pointed to the right at the corner.

Turning the corner, they came face to face with three terrorists coming to investigate. The Deltas reacted first, killing all three with bursts from their rifles. All three half walked, half limped towards the cafeteria with their guns raised. Anderson covered the rear while Smith and Rivera watched ahead.

A couple more JSDF troops rounded the corner, but Smith cut them down quickly.

"Nice shootin', Dave."

"Thanks."

They continued towards the cafeteria when all of the sudden, gunfire erupted with a major intensity just around the corner. It was so loud that the Deltas thought it was being directed at them, and they all dove for cover. Rivera stuck his head up when he realized that it wasn't coming at him. "What the hell?" Behind him, Anderson fired his rifle into some enemies who had come from the rear.

"We have to move, sir! All the friendlies should be at the cafeteria!" yelled Anderson as he fired more. Smith joined in. A large group of enemies had come from behind them after discovering the dead bodies of the terrorists and JSDF troops.

"I know! Come on!" All three bolted down the hall, firing behind them. Rounding the corner, Arleigh caught sight of a JSDF machine gunner turning another corner. Smith stopped, turned, and provided rear covering fire as Anderson and Rivera ran to the next corner. Rivera peered around the corner and saw a group of JSDF troops battling it out with Americans. His head snapped back around the corner when he noticed that American fire was going past the JSDF and hitting the wall opposite him. "We're trapped! If we move out, friendly fire'll hit us. Can't go back, either."

Anderson swore and took a peek for himself. "Yup. Can't do that."

Back at the other corner, Smith yelled, "Hey! I could use some help over here!" Anderson quickly charged back and helped Smith defend the corner.

Arleigh just stayed where he was, and took another peek around the corner. 'To hell with this.' He raced down the hall towards the JSDF with their backs to him and began firing. All of the sudden, the American fire coming the opposite direction stopped. Arleigh ran even faster, killing two JSDF while the other four turned around in horror. Arleigh shot one in the head with a single shot as he slowed to a halt. "Get your goddamn hands up! Get 'em up! Drop your weapons, damnit!" he screamed at the JSDF troops. They didn't know he was out of ammunition and was trying to bluff them. "Get your hands up!"

The three terrified JSDF troops dropped their rifles and raised their hands above their heads as the defenders rushed forward. Ken and Kachou noticed that it was Arleigh. "Arleigh! Hey! Over here!" shouted Ken as he came up. The other defenders shoved their weapons in the JSDF soldiers' faces, keeping them at bay.

Just as Arleigh was about to respond, Smith and Anderson sprinted around the corner yelling that the enemy was coming. They hurtled over debris and enemy bodies in the hall as they rushed towards the defenders, the prisoners, and Arleigh. "Move it!" yelled Anderson.

The defenders pushed past Arleigh and set up behind debris, providing covering fire as the Deltas blew by. They came up to the prisoners and almost toppled over them. Smith quickly regained his balance and pushed one prisoner forward. "Move!"

Kachou twisted around and yelled, "Get them back to the cafeteria! We'll hold them here!"

Arleigh nodded as he reloaded his rifle, much to the dismay of the prisoners, who realized they had surrendered to a defenseless man. With a reloaded rifle, Arleigh pushed a JSDF officer forward. "Move it! Come on!" The three Deltas pushed the three prisoners around the corner as Ken, Kachou, and the Marines covered.

JSDF Captain Hiroaki Kagawa stumbled forward as U.S. Lieutenant Arleigh Rivera pushed him. While the group moved forward, several defenders cheered at seeing the prisoners. Hiroaki looked up and saw the words on the wall "Corridor East-15." 'I can't believe it. If I could've just have got here, it would've all been over.' He trudged forward, passing the point he had memorized on the floor plans. A lump formed in his stomach. 'It was just a few meters more. Damn.'

Arleigh pushed him into the cafeteria while Smith and Anderson filed their prisoners in. He pointed to two police officers with pistols on their belts. "You two, get over here." They shuffled over to the American officer. "Guard these prisoners. Don't let them move." Arleigh patted the prisoners down first before turning them over to the police. He took all their weapons and ammo off of them. "Guard them well."

The officer spun around and walked away. Behind him, Anderson said, "Hey, Arleigh, aren't you going to interrogate them?"

"After I go get some water, yeah. I'm out." He walked over to a table and grabbed a canteen. After chugging a whole canteen, he set it down and wiped his mouth. Looking himself over, he realized he looked like hell. "That fall. Ouch. I'm going to feel that tomorrow." Just as he turned around, he spotted two familiar people sitting by a nearby table. "Hey Aoi and Yoriko!" And just as Kachou before him, he saw the bodies. Arleigh stopped dead in his tracks. "Mother of God." He stumbled over to them. "W-What happened?"

"They were shot, Arleigh," Aoi said. "They're both getting worse every minute. Miyuki has lost a lot of blood. She's worse off." She sat dejectedly on a chair next to her friends. "Natsumi has been unconscious for a long time. She had been fading in and out. And the medics down here are all out of medical supplies. They can't give either of them any plasma."

Arleigh slumped onto another table. "Oh my God..."

Carlson and Stevens got up from their seats a few tables over and walked over to their commander. "Sir, I just want you to know, that these two girls fought extremely hard."

Arleigh didn't even notice that it was Carlson's voice for a few moments. Then he looked up suddenly. "Chris! AJ! Oh my God! You're alive! I thought you two were dead." He jumped up and hugged the two Deltas.

"Yeah, we're fine, L-T," responded Sergeant, First Class Stevens, prying himself away from Rivera. "But they really need help, sir. If they don't get medical help fast they could, well, you know."

Rivera's elation at seeing his two Deltas alive immediately faded and he sunk back onto the table. He couldn't take seeing their paper-white skin under all the dirt and grime. "The rescue force is still over an hour and a half away. What if they don't make it in time?" He wondered if Ken knew about Miyuki. 'He has to know.' Seeing Natsumi unconscious was enough to make him cry. Seeing both of them unconscious did make him cry. "Oh my God. Please don't take them from me." He slowly got up and held both of their hands. "Please don't."

Aoi, Yoriko, Stevens, and Carlson just looked on in silence as the combat-veteran Lieutenant and Medal of Honor winner broke down in tears. They'd never seen him do that before. Stevens put his hand on Rivera's shoulder. "Sir, they're going to get help in time. They'll be fine. God is not going to take these two women today."

Rivera didn't even hear him. His mind raced at a thousand words a second. 'If only I had seen this coming, if only I had taken the command structure down months ago, none of this shit would've happened and they wouldn't be in danger of drying. This is all my fault. No!' Arleigh let out a painful shriek of emotional pain and spun on his heels. He marched determinedly back to where the prisoners were being held. Arleigh walked right up to Anderson and shoved him out of the way.

Arleigh drew his pistol and pistol-whipped the JSDF Captain in the head. "What the hell is this all about you son of a bitch! Look what you've done! Look at all these people that you've killed or wounded! I might lose my two best friends because of you! Tell me! What the hell is this goddamn battle all about! I want to know! Tell me or he dies!" Arleigh grabbed one of the terrified JSDF enlisted soldier's BDU collar and dragged him over. He put his pistol right against the soldier's head. "What is this all about, goddamnit!"

"Hey, L-T! Calm down, damnit!" Anderson tried to reach for Arleigh's arm but the Lieutenant spun around and punched the Master Sergeant in the jaw.

"Get off of me!" Arleigh yelled. He turned back to the prisoners. "Answer me!"

The horrified Captain fell back on his elbows. "Revenge! It was about Revenge!"

"Revenge for what?"

"Revenge for... Revenge for... Revenge for the death's of the Colonel's family! His family was killed by Americans! He wanted revenge against the Americans! He wanted the plans hidden in this building so the terrorist group could take down America and make Japan the only superpower!" Hiroaki crawled backwards on his hands and feet, away from Arleigh.

"Where is he! Where!" Arleigh cocked the hammer back on his pistol and shoved it against the JSDF soldier's head.

"I think his headquarters is by the Sumida River! I don't know where exactly, though! Please don't kill him! He's just a kid! Please!"

"Yeah? All those dead Americans in this building? They're just kids. Most of 'em probably aren't over 20. Guess that doesn't mean much to your forces." Arleigh pulled the trigger on his Beretta M9. The slide shot back and locked open. The magazine was empty. He spun around and walked away from the prisoners, leaving the JSDF Captain speechless and the JSDF trooper whimpering in fear. The other JSDF soldier just sat comatose, oblivious to what happened. Smith, Anderson, and just about everyone in the cafeteria watched Arleigh as he walked across the cafeteria and back to the table where Natsumi and Miyuki lied together, unconscious and near death.

Yoriko hadn't said anything for over an hour, and she hadn't even noticed Arleigh's outburst. She silently changed the bandages on Miyuki and Natsumi when Arleigh walked over. Arleigh just watched her carefully wrap the wounds with clean strips of cloth. They continued to lose blood despite the bandages. The fragment wounds were more serious then anyone had thought. Carlson, Stevens, and even McCray were better off. McCray had regained consciousness some time earlier was resting at the other end of the cafeteria with some other bad, but stable, casualties.

For a while, Arleigh sat in silence. He just held the two officers' hands. 'My God, what has this battle done to them.' The fighting outside the cafeteria intensified every now and then and a couple more casualties trickled in, but for the most part, no one said anything or made any noise after Arleigh's outburst.

Anderson and Smith quietly talked with Carlson and Stevens. Anderson made a radio call up to the other Deltas saying that Carlson and Stevens were still alive, but wounded. They'd be out of action for a little while until the rescue force arrived. He also radioed up what happened with Arleigh and the prisoners. The Deltas upstairs radioed down that the rescue forces were getting closer. It wouldn't be too long until the fight was on the station's doorstep.

Natsumi's hand returned Arleigh's grip and he shot bolt upright in his seat. "Natsumi!" Arleigh jumped up and shuffled around the table to her side. "Natsumi, please say something!"

Her eyes were barely open and her voice was extremely weak. "Ar-Ar-Arleigh?"

"Natsumi! I'm right here. I'm right here. Don't worry." He took off his gloves and caressed her cheek. "Please stay with me. Don't die on me."

She managed a faint smirk. "No one can... No one can kill me, Arleigh. I'm too strong for th-that." Natsumi coughed a little bit after stuttering her words. "Don't you worry."

Arleigh let a tear roll down his face. "I'd die if I lost you, Natsumi. Hang on just a bit longer. We'll get you help."

"That won't happen." Natsumi asked for a drink and Arleigh put the canteen to her lips. He carefully poured some into her mouth and she swallowed weakly, coughing a bit. "I'll be fine. I'm worried about Miyuki." Her voice was barely loud enough to hear over the commotion outside.

The other four Deltas stood behind Arleigh, watching him talk with Natsumi. No one said a word while Natsumi was conscious.

"You're going to be okay. You both will. We're going to get you both evacuated as soon as the rescue force gets here. They're almost here, Natsumi; they're almost here. I can feel it." He meant that literally.

* * *

The ground shook from the battle raging in the streets above. American armor and JSDF armor clashed just a few hundred meters from the station. The JSDF troops and terrorists were locked in battle with elements of the U.S. Army and Marine Corps. Coming from the Miyamura Drive approach were the Army's 2nd Squadron, 14th Cavalry Regiment attached to the 25th Infantry Division [Light] and elements of the 1st Brigade "Lancers" of the same division. From the opposite side, elements of the 3rd Marine Regiment pressed on to the station.

American Stryker light armored vehicles, M2 Bradley Infantry-Fighting-Vehicles, M3 Cavalry-Fighting-Vehicles, and M1A1 Abrams Main Battle Tanks crushed Japanese resistance of Type-90 MBTs and Type-89 IFVs. The air-defense units were slaughtered by naval gunfire in Tokyo Bay leaving the American AH-64-D Longbow Apaches gunships, AH-1W Super Cobras gunships, and F-15-E Strike Eagles, F-16 Fighting Falcons, and F-14 Tomcat fighter-bombers above free to strike Japanese positions all throughout the Sumida Ward. What JSDF troops and terrorists left fled into buildings for cover.

At the station, American and police forces struck out at the enemies hastily trying to prepare a defense for the rescue force coming in. The enemy had nowhere to go but up, so they began attacking up towards the Americans and police above. Valiantly, the defenders held back against the enemy force, which still outnumbered them almost 3 to 1. Running low on ammo, medical supplies, and most of all, manpower, the defenders couldn't hold forever.

* * *

Natsumi winced as another wave of pain hit her legs and back. "Arleigh. Do what you have to do. You're no good standing here." The enemy was making one last, grand push for the cafeteria outside. All able-bodied troops had left to hold them back. Just the medics and the wounded unable to walk or carry a weapon remained.

Arleigh was stunned. "But, Natsumi, I am not going to leave you."

"Now, Arleigh, you know you have to go. Just g-g-go." Natsumi's voice weakened again and she mouthed the words "I love you" to Arleigh. She smiled and let go of his hand. "Go."

He just looked down at her. 'She's right. I have to go. They need me out there. I can't do anything for her except get her medical help, and the way to medical help is through those enemies.' Arleigh bent down and kissed Natsumi on the lips. "I'll be back with help, don't you worry. I love you so much." With that, he spun around and sprinted from the room.

Arleigh landed heavily next to Anderson and Smith, who were firing from covered positions along with a group of Army troopers, Marines, and police officers. "Glad to have you back, L-T!" shouted Smith over the noise of Lennox's and Swiatowski's M240s. Ken and Kachou were across the hall firing from another position. It was the widest hallway in the basement, leading directly to the cafeteria.

"Hoo-ah, Smith!" Arleigh sprayed a burst from his M4A1 at a JSDF soldier trying to throw a grenade at the defenders. "Everyone keep firing! Don't let up! If it moves, shoot it!"

Bullets crisscrossed in the air. So much lead was in the air at one time that it seemed to block views of people. The defenders were running low on ammo, but they fought on just the same. "We will not lose, damnit!" yelled Lennox. "Anyone not fighting will answer to me!" His body vibrated back and forth from the recoil of the M240 machine gun striking his shoulder.

"Sweet" Swiatowski ran out of M240 ammo and was taking pot shots with his pistol at the targets down the hall. "Here they come again! Take 'em out!"

Anderson, Smith, Kagiri, Clark, Romo, and Rivera were all out of rifle ammo a few minutes later. Schippins was down to his last 20 rounds for the S.A.W. and was firing off two round bursts only when he got a clean shot.

Arleigh reloaded his Beretta just in time to see a new surge of enemies round the corner. In a blink he counted ten JSDF troopers and eight terrorists. 'Oh hell no!' Next to him, Schippins and Clark were hit in the upper-torso areas; rifle fire walking up their bodies. They both fell over, dead before they hit the ground. Romo screamed and dove for their bodies. "No!" Taking them by their BDU collars, he strained to drag them back into cover, despite knowing that they were already gone.

Kagiri took a bullet to the upper chest. He grunted and fell to the ground in pain. From behind him, Hideki rushed up and grabbed the Marine, despite being wounded himself. "You did the same for me!" he yelled when Josh Kagiri tried to protest and push him back. Hideki used his own body to shield Kagiri as they made their way back to cover.

Swiatowski and Lennox jumped up together and charged towards the wave of attacks with their pistols and knives. The others screamed for them to stay down, but neither heard the protests. The big, tough Army and Marine Sergeants tackled the first line of JSDF troops and began shooting them point-blank and stabbing at others. Arleigh hurtled a mound of debris and charged after them with his pistol. Smith and Anderson quickly followed. The enemy and friendly charges met head on in a huge brawl. It was a free-for-all. Anderson stabbed at a JSDF soldier's chest with his K-Bar only to have it knocked away by Smith's arm stabbing at another terrorist.

After shooting a terrorist in the chest several times with the last of his pistol rounds, Arleigh looked up and saw another wave of JSDF troopers approaching, firing at the group. He heard Swiatowski grunt in pain and slump over next to him, and then Lennox got hit, too. Arleigh didn't know if they were dead, but neither moved. Arleigh groped around for a rifle and brought up a JSDF soldier's Type-89. He fired the rifle until the magazine ran dry. Smith fell on top of him, blood coming from a gunshot wound to the stomach. Anderson wasn't moving, either. Blood was seeping from his under his helmet. Ken and Kachou were somewhere in the fray. He didn't know how they were.

The enemies ran up to the defenders and began screaming for them to surrender. Arleigh felt a JSDF trooper slam his rifle into Arleigh's back. 'Damnit! We were so close! If we could've just held on a little longer. I'm so sorry, Natsumi, Miyuki, everyone.' Just as he gave up hope, the air behind the enemies lit up with explosions and gunfire. The enemies trying to capture Arleigh turned in horror as the troops at the end of the hall screamed and hollered in pain.

Dark figures appeared at the end of the hall firing their weapons on automatic. Enemies fell dead left and right. Arleigh looked up and through the smoke and debris saw hope restored as the figures began rushing down the hall. He saw the familiar outlines of American helmets and weapons.

"U.S. Army! 2/14th Cav! Are any of you guys still alive?" screamed a big Staff Sergeant. He had 'Taylor' stenciled on his breast pocket name-box. In the low light of the hallway, Arleigh could see the black NCO [non-commissioned-officer] leading a pack of troops with their rifles and machine guns at the ready.

Arleigh lifted his hand up and managed to bark out, "First Lieutenant Rivera! I'm still alive!" A medic pushed past the other Cav troops. He came to Arleigh. "No! No! Check the others first! I'm okay! Check them!" Arleigh got himself up, waving off help from the other "Blues" [nickname for Cavalry infantry]. "Boy, are you sure a sight for sore eyes!"

"Cavalry always comes to the rescue, sir!" shouted Staff Sergeant Robert Taylor. He shouted because there were still some Cav troops fighting the last of the enemies in the halls that the Cav had either bypassed or because the Blues had not gone through those halls originally.

"Hoo-ah!" shouted Arleigh. Immediately he turned and beckoned the Cav Blues to follow. "Come on! We've got real critical casualties back here!" Arleigh realized he was relatively unharmed.

Too his amazement, all of the wounded around him waved off the medical treatment, even the heavily wounded Smith and Swiatowski. They both yelled "No!" at the medics and shoved them away.

Smith held his bleeding stomach with his hands tightly. "Go into that goddamned cafeteria! There are two female police officers dying in there! I swear, if you don't take them first I will kill you!" Smith took one hand away and grabbed a pistol on the floor near him. "Now!"

Arleigh just looked at his fellow Delta. "Smith! You take medical treatment! That's a direct order! All of you! This is an order!" But he did grab one of the medics. "Come with me. I've got two badly hurt friends. They're probably our most critical casualties. They need an evac now!"

"Sir, I was told to take only U.S. casualties first, then Japanese." The medic gulped when all the defenders around him grabbed the nearest weapons. "Uh, take me to them, sir."

Arleigh led the Cav medic into the cafeteria and straight to Miyuki and Natsumi. "These two! Do you have any blood plasma?"

"Holy shit! They look dead!" blurted the Cav medic as he fumbled to take his medical pack off of his back and put it on the table.

"SpecFour, do you have any blood plasma?"

"Y-yeah! I'll start them both now!" Specialist, Fourth Class Chris Ferrari quickly opened his medical kit and dug out his bottles of plasma. "Hold these while I get the needles and tubes." Within a minute, he had both women on plasma IVs. "Shit, sir, they are bad."

"Specialist, you stay with these women. Make sure they receive your full attention until I get back." Arleigh rushed into the hallway and quickly found Taylor. "Is the route back to the surface safe? I need to make a priority call to find out when the evac choppers are getting here."

"Yes, sir. We cleared the route back. The rest of the Lancers are holding it. There's still some fighting going on upstairs, but you can get back. And a company is already clearing the parking lot across the street for med-evac."

"Okay, thanks. I am heading up there. Take over things down here. Make sure all the wounded are taken care of. If any of my guys resist, tell them it's an order to get help." Arleigh sprinted the whole way back to stairs. He bounded up three steps at a time and came burst out of the station so fast that 25th ID troops reacted to him as if he was an enemy. Arleigh grabbed the nearest radio operator, commandeering him from a platoon leader, and dialed in a command frequency. "Delta Five-One to Zama. I need an immediate update on the ETA of the med-evac choppers! I've got extremely critical casualties that need an evac now! Over."

"Five-One, 25th Aviation and 160th SOAR are already inbound with two Chinooks and four UH-60s and MH-60s along with their armed escorts. They'll be inbound as soon as the landing area is cleared. On-scene ground commanders have the air support frequencies. Over."

"Roger that, Five-One out." Arleigh quickly asked for the needed frequency and typed it in. "Angel Two-Two, Delta Five-One. ETA to Objective Alpha? Over." Through all the smoke and dust, he could see the two M1A1s and several M3 CFVs of the 2/14th Cav using their power to batter burned out hulks of enemy equipment and civilians cars out of the way to clear the parking lot. It would be the primary LZ for the choppers coming in.

"Five-One, we are ten mikes outside of the objective. Ready to receive casualties as soon as landing area is clear. Over." Some fighting was still going on across the other side of the station where 1st Brigade troops and the defenders were trying to eliminate the last pockets of resistance in the station. In a span of only twenty-five minutes, all the enemies in the station had either fled, been killed, or were captured. Nearby, a group of soldiers were guarding about ten prisoners.

"Roger that! I'll be waiting! Five-One out." The Lieutenant replaced the handset and shouted over the noise still around the station, "I need medics and stretchers now! Any medics and anyone with a stretcher, come with me!" Rivera led a small group of medical personnel from a medical-evac Stryker that had come in with the Army team. They weaved through the halls and down to the cafeteria where the Cav Blues were tending to the wounded. Arleigh directed all but two of the personnel to go tend to the worst-off wounded. He took the remaining two to where the Cav medic was still pumping plasma into Natsumi and Miyuki. "Specialist! Got you some help."

"We've got to hurry, sir! They need to be evaced now! I can't sustain them much longer like this. They need a field hospital, now!" The medic was changing out the bottle of plasma on Miyuki as he spoke.

"Okay, break out the two stretchers, guys. Hurry!" Arleigh helped the two 1st Brigade medics expand the stretchers they had on their backs. "Careful, careful."

Natsumi had her eyes partly open as Arleigh helped the medics. "Arleigh."

"Natsumi!" He turned back around and held her hand. "The med-evacs are on their way! You're going to be fine! Hang in there! But you have to be strong, we're going to move you. The choppers are almost here!"

She nodded and slowly closed her eyes, feeling another wave of pain wash over her. "Hurry, please. Miyuki is hurting."

First they loaded Natsumi by sliding her off the end of the table onto the stretcher that they were holding level with the tabletop. Then they id the same for Miyuki, since she was farther in on the table. "Let's move!" The Cav medic and Arleigh took Natsumi's stretcher while the 1st Brigade medics took Miyuki. As they moved to the door, Kachou and Ken ran over. Both had slash wounds from the fight earlier.

"Let us help, Arleigh!" said Ken. He looked anxiously at Miyuki's pale form.

"Yeah, sure, take the stretcher end from one of the medics with Miyuki." He shifted back to English. "Let him carry that end. You hold up the plasma and keep pressure on her wounds." Arleigh told the Cav medic to do the same, giving Kachou the other end. "Come on!"

They all moved as quickly as they could through the halls. Behind them, some of the walking wounded followed, giving words of encouragement to the wounded ladies.

"Hang in there, girls! You did great! Just a little bit more and you'll be fine!" Smith trailed behind them the closest. He held his stomach with one hand while a wounded Army trooper propped up his other side. "Hang in there!" Behind them, Lennox and Swiatowski supported each other, fending off medics as they went, despite Rivera's orders. Kagiri and Hideki, despite their own grievous wounds helped carry Anderson's stretcher. He had been shot in the head, but the bullet had just grazed his skull. It knocked him unconscious and he was losing some blood, but the medic said that he would be fine if they got him to the field hospital quickly. Carlson, Stevens, and McCray were all helping each other limp along with their wounds. Williams, completely restocked from the Army medics with supplies, was still in the cafeteria tending to a few minor wounds that Cav Blues had sustained. Taylor and his men were policing the dead enemies and guarding a few prisoners.

The group carefully moved up the stairs, making sure not to jostle any of the stretcher-bound wounded too much. They arrived on the surface just in time to see a 25th AVN CH-47 Chinook medium-lift chopper landing followed by two MH-60s from the 160th SOAR. Another Chinook and two UH-60s hovered above before troops on the ground cleared out and they all landed on the streets around the station. Arleigh, Kachou, Ken, and the medics tottered over to the nearest chopper, one of the MH-60s, and hailed the crew chief.

"Donches! Hey! We need some help over here!" shouted Arleigh.

Mike Donches, the Crew Chief for Black Widow, hopped out of the MH-60 Blackhawk chopper, the rotors still running. "Holy shit, they look bad!" he yelled upon seeing the two female police officers. "All right, hurry up, get them onboard!"

But before they could, an Army medic jumped out of the chopper, too. He was the in-flight medical person for the MH-60, since it wasn't a dedicated med-evac chopper, like the 25th AVN UH-60s were. "Hey! We're only supposed to take military personnel first! I don't have authorization to take them!" None of the defenders said anything as they pushed past the medic and put the stretchers down in the choppers. "Hey! Get them out of there!"

Arleigh turned around and pushed the medic against the chopper roughly. "Guess what, you are taking them. You are going to treat them. You are going to get them to the field hospital right away. And if you don't, I will kill you."

"I can report you for this, sir! You'll be court-martialed." The medic stood firm despite the protests from the other people standing around. "No!"

Master Sergeant Mike Donches yelled at the medic. "This ain't your chopper, buddy! You can't tell me what goes on and what doesn't. We're taking them!"

Just then, Captain Surai pushed past the men ringing around the obstinate medic. "Now look here you little son of a bitch, I don't care who the hell issued your orders. You're treating them." Surai grabbed the medic by the collar and shoved him onto the chopper. "Sergeant Donches, get this chopper airborne and to the field hospital."

"Yes, sir!" Donches got back on the chopper, keeping an eye on the medic to make sure he wasn't trying to get off. "Okay, we're clear to go," said Donches. But Arleigh stopped him.

"Wait!" Arleigh leaned in and kissed Natsumi's hand. "Hold on, Natsumi! You're almost home free!" He went to the side of the cockpit and banged twice on the door, signaling the all clear to lift-off. Arleigh gave Donches the thumbs-up and backed away, shielding his eyes. The MH-60's rotors bit into the air deeper and lifted off. Everyone around watched as it went straight up before turning 180 degrees and pulling away. Two AH-64 gunships swooped in to guard the chopper as it lifted off.

Everyone present who had served alongside Miyuki and Natsumi at any point during the siege of the station cheered as the 160th Special-Operations-Aviation-Regiment chopper faded into the distance, carrying two of the hardest-working and fighting members of the defense to the field hospital at Tokyo Airport.

There was still work to be done, though.

* * *

QUESTIONS AND COMMENTS: Bravo26Flashpoint (at) yahoo (dot) com 


	17. Getaway Vehicle

17

**The Siege**

**Chapter 17: Getaway Vehicle**

By JagdPanther

Captain Vincent Surai looked over Arleigh after the medevac chopper had faded from view. "Jesus Christ, Riv. What the hell happened to you?" Arleigh was covered from head to toe in think soot, so thick on his face that the whites of his eyes were a terribly stark contrast. His fatigues were torn to shreds so badly that it was a wonder that they were still on him. Blood from his own injuries and wounds of others covered his body. His back and shoulders were covered in Ryker's blood, Smith's blood was on his arms, his own blood was on his legs, and some of Miller's and Johnson's blood stains were on his chest.

Looking himself over, Arleigh just managed, "Nothing in particular. I just haven't bathed in a few years." Then Arleigh noticed Surai's appearance. "Um, you're bleeding, Cap'n."

Surai checked his arm. "Yeah, I guess so. When the rescue forces were closing in the enemy tried moving up and we had to defend the halls. They managed to get people all the way up to the fourth floor in the stairs. I had to grab a rifle and beat some of them back. Just got a little flesh wound. Nothing much."

River just rolled his eyes and said, "Your arm's cut off," making a sly reference to the Monty Python movie.

"No it's not!" retorted Surai, laughing, getting it. "Okay, Lieutenant, lets keep the evacuations running."

"Roger that, sir." Arleigh and Surai began directing wounded to the remaining choppers. Rivera grabbed Smith, Carlson, Stevens, Ryker, and few other wounded and placed them in a group near the other MH-60. The stretcher with Anderson aboard was also in the group. "Okay, you guys are all going out together!" He stifled the protests from his Deltas. "Shaddap! I don't want to hear it! You're all going whether you like it or not. None of you are in any condition to fight no matter how much you tell me that you are! So can it and get on the goddamn chopper!" Arleigh forcefully shoved some of the Deltas aboard the idling Blackhawk. Anderson's unconscious form went on first and was secured. After him, the Delta walking wounded climbed aboard with three American casualties. "I'll make sure I police up all your weapons, don't worry." Delta Force personnel had custom weapons made for them and they got attached to the guns very easily.

The 160th SOAR crew wanted to get maximum evacuation capacity so they waited until two more Marines came out of the station to be evaced. All the men saluted Rivera before the chopper lifted off.

"Hey, you go get those bastards who did this, L-T!" shouted Ryker.

Smith jubilantly added, "Yeah, go get him while we go back and get to have good fun with the nurses back at the field hospital! Party time! Woohoo!" Laughing, Smith choked on some spit when Stevens slapped him in the back of the head.

Rivera smirked and replied, "Go ahead and slack off all you want, boys. You've earned it. See y'all back at base!" He saluted and backed away as the MH-60 lifted off, blowing dust and debris every which way. Just as before, it spun around 180 degrees and powered away with an escort of gunships. Rivera turned and began walking back to the station when Antonelli and Chavez caught up with him.

"Hey L-T! We've got no problem filling in for your D-Boys!" proclaimed Javier Chavez.

Arleigh laughed. "Yeah, in your dreams, Marine. Besides, where are your little Marine Corps pals, anyway? I only see Army personnel here." To confirm this, Arleigh spread his hands out, taking all the troops present into view. "Army 1, Marines 0. Hoo-ah!" A small explosion several hundred meters away signaled the arrival of the Marine Corps' 3rd Regiment. An M1A1 had just destroyed a technical trying to make a run for it. "Oh, look, the Marines are here."

Chavez sighed and shook off the Army-man's badgering. He saw Sergeant Adams being helped out to one of the waiting CH-47s and hailed him. "Hey Sarge! Hang in there! We'll get those jackasses!"

The Marine Sergeant shook his head in anger. "Damn right, Chavez! I have to go back to the friggin' rear! This is crap!"

"Adams! Marines on the road!" taunted Rivera. "Looks like they're a little late, eh? Suck it, Marine! Army wins!"

"With all due respect, shut up, Lieutenant!" Adams flipped Rivera the middle finger as he passed the Lieutenant, but kept a broad smile on his face. "Next time, you watch. Marines will save the day. Looks like they just let the Army earn its pay for once instead of the Marines having to bust their asses."

"Oh, I'm hurt, Sarge." Rivera stuck his tongue out at the Marine. "You lost, get over it." Arleigh patted him on the back. "Take care, man. You did great out there."

"Thanks, sir. " Wounds and all, Adams hobbled onto the CH-47 and took a seat on the side bench with a few other casualties while the crew continued to load wounded.

"Okay, guys. You're my two new additions to the team. If your commanders have anything to say, tell them to talk to me. First, meet up with the rest of my guys. You know who they are, right?"

"Sergeants, First Class Jones, Horner, McMichael, and Lewis," piped Antonelli. "Yeah, we know. Kind of hard to not know them after all they did around the station before we left on the LP, sir." Chavez nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, good. I'm going to go see if I can find all my guys' weapons in the basement. Meet them in the parking lot. I'll call them down on the Delta com now." Arleigh left the two troopers by the pseudo-Landing Zone and returned to the basement. By now, about half of the wounded and dead had been moved upstairs to be evacuated. Arleigh passed a few groups moving up and out as he called the Deltas down to the meeting point, and he continued down to collect the evacuated Deltas' weapons.

With the arrival of the 3rd Marines, the Americans began consolidating their positions. Soon they would start search-and-destroy missions targeting the remnants of the enemy force. Also, there would be the hunt for the leaders of the enemy. The JMDF Japanese-Maritime-Defense-Force and U.S. Navy ships were blockading the waterways in and around the Ward. American aircraft were doing constant fly-overs, searching for targets of opportunity to take out. Most of the enemy had gone to ground, meaning that they were hiding in buildings. It would take a building-to-building search to be rid of them all.

"Sir, you have got to be kidding me. Are we seriously picking up a Marine?" Jones' voice came over the Delta com as Rivera put another custom M4A1 on his shoulder. "No way."

"Delta Five-Four, get over it. In case you didn't notice, we're not exactly full strength right now, and these two proved to be extremely good fighters, so we're going to have them bolster our little clan. Just sit tight, I'll be right up there. Five-One out." Rivera finished policing up his men's custom weapons. The Delta's treasured their guns, and it would hurt worse than their wounds to lose them. He came up from the basement area just in time to see Surai and another Marine officer conversing heatedly about something. Hefting several extra weapons, Arleigh made his way over to them. "Hey Captain. Anything wrong?"

"Yeah, they're ordering me out, Riv," Surai quipped. He turned back to the Marine Lieutenant Colonel. "Sir, with all due respect, my men and I are not leaving until this job is done!"

"Captain, you have less than fifty men who aren't beyond walking wounded. You've been in this since yesterday morning. Get your men onto those choppers when they get here and go back to the base."

"But Colonel! We need all the men we can get, and these guys won't want to leave! I know it!"

Arleigh cut in. "Cap'n, you'd be really dumb not to take that offer. Let the fresh forces take care of everything."

"And who the hell are you?" questioned the Marine.

"First Lieutenant Arleigh Rivera, Army Delta Force, sir."

"Army, huh? Stay the hell out of this." Arleigh rolled his eyes as the Marine officer turned back to Surai. "Surai, just get on the choppers when they get here and make this easier for me."

"No, sir." Surai's continuing response was preempted by the arrival of another Marine officer. "Colonel Stout, sir!" Surai, Rivera, and the Marine Lieutenant Colonel turned to salute the Regimental commander.

"At ease, gentleman. What seems to be the problem here?"

The Lieutenant Colonel spoke up first. "Colonel, Captain Surai will not take his men from the combat zone. He says that they would prefer to fight, but he has less than fifty able-bodied men and most of them are walking wounded. I think that they should go back to base and let the fresh forces take care of things."

"And Captain, why don't you want to go?"

"Sir, my men and I prefer to stay here and fight. We are not going to go home until this is over. We have a mission, and we're going to see it to the end. I've got less than fifty men, but they all can and will fight."

Colonel Randy Stout smiled the Alpha Company, 1st Battalion officer. "Vince, I don't see what the problem is in keeping you and your guys here. If you want to fight and can, you can stay. We'll need all the people we can get to clear the Ward. Bob, call off the choppers to take them back."

"Yes, sir," replied the Lieutenant Colonel.

"Thank you, Colonel." Surai saluted and smiled as Stout walked away. "Thanks for backing me up there, Arleigh."

"Yeah, no problem. By the way, I'm stealing one of your guys. I want Chavez to help me and my few remaining Deltas. I need a gunner and he's good." Arleigh shifted his weight under the extra weapons.

"Take him. I can do with one less, I suppose. I've basically been demoted to a platoon leader now with all the casualties I took and evacuated." Surai sighed and leaned against the chipped and cracked wall the station. "I lost over a hundred KIA or WIA in less than 24 hours." He rubbed his face and shook his head limply.

"Hey, I've been there. You can't let it get you down, especially not while you're still in combat. There's time for that later. Right now you have to organize your remaining guys and get back to kicking ass."

"I guess so." Surai lifted his M-16A2 off of the ground and checked the magazine. "Yeah, work comes first. Someone has to pay for my guys and I have to make sure of it."

"Hell yes. Now, I have to go get my little rag-tag group together and see what we can do." Rivera turned and went around the front of the station. Marine tanks and Army Strykers were parked all over, some forming a defensive perimeter, while others getting ready to head out with infantry teams to clear the Ward of the remaining enemy presence. "Okay, guys, max out ammo and grenades from any supplies you can, get some food, get some water, go to the head, whatever you have to do to get ready. Meet me in the new TOC over there by the station entrance in an hour. I think I heard that the 1st of the 25th has boxes of MREs in some of their Stykers back along Miyamura Drive for the defenders. Eat up."

* * *

"Hey! Hey! What are you doing? This is the military section! All civilians have to wait! Either that or take them to a civilian hospital in the city. Priority goes to wounded military personnel, so get them out of here," yelled a Navy Corpsman at the field hospital that had been set up at the Tokyo Airport. 

"That's too damn bad, Petty Officer," replied Mike Donches. "As per orders of on-scene commanders inside the Ward, you are going to treat them whether you like it or not." The Army Master Sergeant was making that part up, but it looked like it was working.

"What? Christ, don't they realize that we've got enough people to deal with? Okay, get them in here." The Corpsman turned and yelled back into the fray of medical personnel in the center for help with the stretchers. "Gunshot wound vics comin' in! Two females, civilians, early-mid twenties, massive blood loss. Move it!" The Corpsman took one end of Natsumi's stretcher and brought her into the emergency unit. He set her down on an open table that was doubling as a gurney for the moment inside the center. "Faint pulse, needs immediate blood transfusion. Damnit, we don't know what her blood type is, do we? Wonderful, get me a plasma IV for now, Dockerty, I need to go see if we have any Type-O left." No matter what a person's blood type, they can receive transfusions from Type-O blood, and that is why Type-O is called the Universal Donor.

Across the floor, Miyuki was set down on another table. A female Army medical technician was hovering over her with a pen-light. "She's still alive, barely! She isn't breathing, but her pupils are dilating! I need some help over here!" Another medic came over and slid an oxygen mask over Miyuki's face. "Hook her up, quick" yelled the female technician, as she grabbed a portable monitor from the shelf to her left. Along with the other medic, they hooked Miyuki up to the machine, which immediately began tracking a few vital functions. Miyuki's pulse was extremely faint. "Two GSWs to the shoulder," said the technician as she began removing Miyuki's flak jacket and cutting away her shirt. "She's going to need, wait, what?" The technician stopped short as she looked down at the other end of the table. Some blood trickled out from behind Miyuki's legs. "Jimmy, help me flip her over."

The two medical personnel grabbed Miyuki's side and lifted her up onto her left side. "Damnit! She's got shrapnel wounds to the legs, too!" The personnel at the station had missed it, but while Miyuki in the hall, before she had been picked up by the rescue squad; she had been hit in the legs by grenade fragments. Just after the technician finished her sentence, Miyuki's heart monitor flat lined. "Oh, Christ! She's flat lined!" The tech pushed herself up onto the table and prepared Miyuki for CPR. "Jimmy, breaths." Working in unison, the two techs worked furiously. "Seven… Eight… Nine…" The female tech pressed on Miyuki's chest while the male tech provided the two breaths. It took three full cycles, but Miyuki's pulse returned, faintly. "She needs surgery, now. Doctor! Doctor!"

A Delta Force Major with an operating gown on picked his way through the rows of tables and arrived at Miyuki's side. "What is it?"

"This one, sir. Civilian, female, early-mid twenties here on order of the commanders inside the city. She's got two gun-shot-wounds to the upper body and several shrapnel wounds to the back of the legs. She just flat-lined but we resuscitated her. We don't know what her blood type is. "

"All right, move her into Surgery 3. I'll go get them prepped."

"Yes, sir!" As the techs moved Miyuki into the Surgery part of the field hospital, they couldn't help but wonder who Miyuki and Natsumi were, and why they were placed on the priority level of the rest of the American soldiers who had been wounded.

"Okay, let's get down to business, shall we?" quipped the Delta Force Major as finished scrubbing up for the surgery.

Miyuki was in surgery for almost an hour. She had almost died three times right there on the operating table. By the time the surgery was over, the American medical personnel had removed ten pieces of shrapnel from Miyuki's legs and patched the four holes in her upper body from the bullets. A quick test had confirmed her blood type and they were now pumping Type A blood unto her system. She was wheeled out into a recovery area of the field hospital. There were plenty of other soldiers there. Some had minor wounds; others were hooked up to respirators and were awaiting transfer to a permanent military hospital. Natsumi was sleeping from the lack of energy associated with the blood loss when Miyuki's limp, but at least still alive, form was placed in the bed next to hers.

A few TVs were on stands around the recovery section inside the hangar. All of them were tuned into American news stations playing back footage and commentary on the battle raging inside Tokyo. American news stations had been covering the battle since very early in the morning, around 2 AM, the previous day and since then it was all anyone covered. American troops fighting and dying in a foreign city against a terrorist enemy? It was what every news reporter dreaming of covering. On one TV tuned into CNN, a camera had caught an F-15E on a strafing run a few kilometers away from the station. Several American soldiers cheered as an explosion blossomed in the picture.

But for these Americans, and these two Japanese women, now all anyone in the room could do was wait and see what unfolded next. For them, the battle was over.

* * *

Many hours had passed. It was late afternoon, the sun was lowering in the western sky, and the fighting was progressing slowly across the Ward. Street to street, building to building, American troops were clearing out the last remaining enemies while rescuing the last civilians who had been unable to flee the area before it was sealed off by the enemy's grip on the bridges. In a store two kilometers from the station, Arleigh was drinking from his canteen when the radio came alive.

"Delta Five-One, go ahead. Over." Arleigh nibbled at a cracker from the MRE he had had an hour earlier while he waited for the response. The Delta Force officer and his small rag-tag group had been fighting for a while alongside a platoon of soldiers from the 3rd Marines. They had already killed or captured about thirty enemies.

"Five-One, Command. One of the patrols captured a JSDF battalion commander and we just interrogated him. Rivera, I think you're going to want to hear this…"

* * *

Sergeant, First Class Earl Morris of the Army's Delta Force favored his broken hand as he huddled against the wall in the pitch-black room with another Delta, an Army PFC, and a Marine Lance Corporal. The four of them had been prisoners for almost 15 hours. It was cold inside the basement, but the four soldiers huddled together to use their body heat effectively.

Suddenly, the door opened at the top of the stairs and light spilled down into the room. Morris blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the new light. A JSDF sergeant descended the steps slowly and pointed at the four Americans. In English, he said, "On your feet, all of you. We're going."

Morris, despite his hands being tied behind his back, let Williams, the other Delta, use him as a prop so Williams could stand up. Morris then slowly got up and led the way upstairs. In the first floor room of the building, Morris noticed that JSDF personnel were quickly taking down maps and breaking down radio gear. 'They must be pulling back. That means that we're closing in on this place.' Straining to hear about the clatter of shoes, equipment, voices, and folding paper, Morris listened for gunfire or explosions, the tell-tale signs of battle. Try as he might, there was just too much clutter noise around him.

"Come with me," said the JSDF sergeant. He led the four Americans past the Japanese troops and terrorists gathering all the vital things they needed before they retreated. The sergeant led them out the back door and into a small yard with Colonel Nakatani and the terrorist leader standing there. "Sir, here are the prisoners." There was a JSDF staff vehicle with two guards on the side of the yard, pointed out to the road leading along the side of the building.

"Good." Nakatani turned to the terrorist leader. "Now, I will pull back to the secondary command post with a skeleton staff, you will remain here and form a line of resistance for the American forces moving through the Ward."

"First of all," replied the terrorist, "you don't tell me what to do. Second, I have to get what parts of the plan we have out of the Ward. I can't waste my time with this. Holding the Americans at bay is your job. I have to get as many of my men out as possible to carry out these plans. We may be missing one part, but we can do with what we have for now, but I need people to carry it out. And third, the best way to fight this battle is to disperse the troops and do quick strikes against the Americans. They have the advantage when we bunch up. They can isolate us and force us into submission. If we break up, then we can cause them havoc behind their lines and create far more casualties."

"Is that so? I believe that I am the military man here. What do you know about combat? Especially against the Americans. I have done war games against them before. The most effective way to defeat them is to form tight pockets that will force them to commit vast amounts of troops to overcome. Then you cut them down like dogs. I will get the plans out, you stay here." Nakatani saluted and ordered the sergeant to collect the gather plans on compact disks in the command post. "Good day, Hiroshi. Make Japan proud."

"Go ahead and run away, Nakatani. I know what you're doing. You think I didn't know how you planned to escape with your life if things got bad while you left everyone else to die? I already have a few of my men at the building. They will not let you go. Now give me the plans and I will get them out of here. I will return once they are safely out of the Ward, unlike you would do."

"Is that so?" Nakatani took the plans from the hand of the JSDF sergeant and held them out to the terrorist leader. He coughed and scratched his neck while looking at one of his guards "I cannot believe that you think I would abandon my men and yours when they have the chance to kill many Americans. That is so saddening." Just as the terrorist leader reached out for the small stack of discs, one of the JSDF guards kicked the terrorist's legs out from under him, and shot him in the back of the head with a silenced pistol. "I am terribly sorry, Hiroshi, but that is not for you to know." Nakatani wiped his forehead with a handkerchief and walked to his staff vehicle. "Have a platoon move to the riverside building and secure it, Sergeant."

"Yes, Colonel."

Nakatani lowered his voice and motioned to the Americans standing in shock across the yard. "And, Sergeant? Kill them. I don't need them anymore."

"As you wish, sir." The Sergeant saluted the brigade commander and watched as the Colonel's staff car drove off down the back roads. He turned and ordered three JSDF soldiers to guard the prisoners for a moment and dispose of the terrorist's body while he went and made the call for a platoon to secure the Colonel's getaway vehicle. He returned to the yard a few minutes later and drew his pistol and pulled back the hammer.

* * *

Nearby, Rivera listened to a vehicle start up. He couldn't see what was happening in the yard, but he knew that that would be the entrance to the command post. With any luck, the rogue JSDF and terrorist commanders would be there as well as the prisoners. The rogue JSDF battalion commander was disgruntled over the whole operation and had spilled his guts over the location of the command post and that an aide of his had seen some American prisoners there earlier that morning. Now Rivera and his rag-tag group of Deltas and two Army and Marine enlisted were closing in on the CP. Along the main road, a squad from the 2/14th Cav was set up with two extra medium machine guns supporting. A squad of Marines was moving from building to building along the street from the opposite side that Arleigh and his men were on.

Arleigh's radio came alive. "Five-One, Blue Four-Four. A vehicle is moving out. Intercept? Over."

"Five-One. Negative, Four-Four. Lima Two is not in position yet. Let him go. Over."

"Roger that, Five-One."

A few more minutes passed before the Marine unit was in position. "Okay, Blue Four-Four, get ready to take down anything that comes out the front. Lima Two, you are authorized to attack. Delta Five-One out." Arleigh replaced the handset and motioned for the squad to come up from the kneeling position and advance on the objective. "Get ready for take down." Arleigh pulled a flash-bang from his tactical vest and pulled the pin. Delta Sergeants Lewis and Horner followed suit with their own flash-bangs while Jones, McMichael, Chavez, and Antonelli stacked up alongside the wall enclosing the yard. "Go!" Arleigh tossed his device over the wall with Lewis's and Horner's. The three devices popped, deafening and blinding everyone in the yard. The four stacked Americans quickly burst around the corner and into the yard.

Arleigh came around the corner with his rifle up just as McMichael put a burst from his rifle into the JSDF sergeant's chest. The rogue JSDF sergeant was flung back into another JSDF soldier, who was shot in the arm by Antonelli. Chavez fired a long burst from his S.A.W. through the doorway into the building as Jones tossed in a flash-bang. Lewis and Horner split off to help the entry team while Arleigh went to the side of Morris, who was rolling around on the ground, in pain from a flash-bang, which had gone off right behind him.

McMichael cut Morris' plexicuffs and tried to calm him down. "Hey! Earl! It's me! Calm down, you're all right. Just hang in there."

Antonelli and Rivera cut the restraints on the other three prisoners as the rest of the team was inside the building, clearing it. Out front, several enemies tried to make a break for it, but they were cut down by the machine gun fire from the 2/14th Cav-Infantry squad. The Marines entered through a side window and were clearing out, too. The two entry teams met up and began clearing the upper floors. It only took five minutes before there were twenty-one enemies killed and ten prisoners with no American casualties. The assault had taken them completely by surprise.

"Hoo-ah! Welcome back to the land of the living, guys!" Arleigh slapped Morris and Williams on their backs, despite their protests.

"Sir, I can't hear a goddamn word that you just said," shouted Williams. He couldn't even hear himself speak, still feeling the effects of the flash-bang. "Can we go home now?"

Antonelli was looking at Morris's swollen, broken hand. He gave the Delta a thumbs up. "You'll be okay, you just need to have this put in a cast soon and you'll be fine.

"What?" shouted back Morris.

Mario Antonelli just waved his hand back and forth and shook his head. "Nevermind."

Arleigh grabbed the radio from Lewis and called. "Delta Five-One to Command. We have successfully rescued four American prisoners alive. Captured ten JSDF personnel and killed twenty-one. Terrorist leader has been executed by the rogue JSDF personnel prior to our arrival. Rogue JSDF brigade leader unaccounted for. He's not here, Command. One enemy soldier says that we missed him by a couple minutes. He's drove off in a staff vehicle that I let by because my teams were not in position to deal with it. Over."

"Roger that, Five-One. Evacuation chopper for the prisoners on the way. Did the soldier say where he was going? Over."

"Negative, Command. But one of my Deltas who was a prisoner said that Nakatani mentioned something about securing a riverside building. He doesn't know where, though. Over."

"Very well, Five-One. Hold position until relieved. A Stryker platoon is on the way, ETA twenty minutes. Command out."

Arleigh returned the handset and sat down on an overturned bucket in what was once the primary map room for the enemy. He looked at the body of the terrorist leader, which the troops had dragged inside after clearing the building. "I wonder what caused them to kill him," he said to no one in particular.

* * *

Back at Tokyo Airport, Natsumi's eyes fluttered open. Her vision was a bit distorted, but it slowly focused. As she panned her vision around, she saw tens of Americans lying in beds with all sorts of medical personnel milling about. A few walking wounded were dispersed about the large recovery tent, talking with other wounded or remaining silent, just sitting beside the unconscious wounded. Other Americans were clustered around TVs watching the news, probably. Except for some low conversations and the sound of heart monitors and respirators, there was little noise above the TVs.

Still weak, it was a little hard for Natsumi as she turned around. Her heart sank as she saw Miyuki lying in the next bed over, a heart monitor beeping slowly. The distance across was too great, so Natsumi couldn't reach over and hold Miyuki's hand. She just sat there, defeated that she couldn't do anything for her best friend and partner.

She almost jumped as a hand came to rest on her own shoulder. Natsumi turned back around and saw an American smiling at her.

In passable Japanese, he said, "Do not worry, Miss. She will be fine. We are taking good care of her. She needs to rest more while her blood regenerates and we give her more. But we fixed her wounds and she will be fine."

Natsumi felt a small tear form in the corner of her eye as she leaned over and hugged the American doctor. "Thank you. I can't think of what I would do if she died."

"Just rest, Miss. You are not in the best of shape, either. We had to remove a fragment from your back, but you will be fine. Rest." The American walked away and began checking on other wounded Americans. Down the end of the tent, a group of medical personnel wheeled out two severely wounded Marines who were being evacuated to a permanent hospital for more advanced surgery.

Natsumi's eyelids drooped as she thought of all the people who had died or were wounded during the fighting. There was still fighting going on, apparently. She leaned back on her bed and was about to shut her eyes when an Army buck Sergeant burst into the tent.

"Lieutenant Rivera and a platoon just rescued four prisoners from LP-Two! And the terrorist commander is dead! They have the rogue JSDF commander on the run and tons of the remaining enemies are surrendering!" Cheers erupted from all around the recovery tent from soldiers. Natsumi just looked around, wondering what had been said.

A Japanese-speaking Marine repeated it for her and her heart rate increased dramatically. Despite having felt weak before, she was elated. 'Arleigh is still alive! And if the terrorist commander is dead, then this might come to an end soon!' she thought. Just then, Ken and the Chief walked into the recovery tent. They had been ushered to another area when they had arrived on the medical evacuation with Natsumi and Miyuki. Both were considered walking wounded and had wound up elsewhere. "Ken! Chief! Did you hear? They got the terrorist commander and rescued some prisoners."

"Yeah, we did. We were just coming for you two. How are you?" responded the Chief, hugging his subordinate. "I'm so glad you're still alive."

"I'm fine. I'm a little weak, but I should be back in action soon. A doctor said they operated on Miyuki and she'll be okay. He said that she just needs to rest and recuperate." She looked worriedly at Ken who was silent, holding Miyuki's hand. "Ken, she'll be fine. I know it."

"I know, too. But it is just so hard to see her like this. She's never down, and seeing her unconscious and hooked up to this medical equipment is so strange." He sighed and stood back up. "I'll let her rest. Hey, though, you look better than you did this morning!"

"I know, but I still feel like crap. Are you two okay?"

"Yeah, we're fine. They kept us in another area for a while and then they had us helping unload evacuation choppers and load choppers for supply runs."

"Where are Aoi and Yoriko, have you seen them?" asked Natsumi.

"No, we were wondering if you had. After the final assault on the station, we lost track of them. I sure hope they're okay." As if on cue, both walked through the makeshift door of the tent.

"Natsumi! Chief! Ken!" yipped Yoriko. "You're all okay! I can't believe it!" Yoriko hugged Kachou.

Aoi looked at Miyuki. "Will she be all right?"

"Yes, the doctors said she will be fine just as long as she rests," said Natsumi. "Where were you two? We were just wondering about what had happened to you."

Aoi patted Miyuki on the shoulder and turned around. Before she responded, she pried Yoriko off of the Chief. "The Americans just evacuated us with the rest of the police. We were the last police to leave, along with Chief Arizuka, Inspector Kinoshita, and a handful of administrative personnel. We made a final sweep of the building for any police and then they put us on a helicopter and took us here."

"Have you heard anything about the battle? What is going on? We just heard that Arleigh rescued some prisoners and found the terrorist leader dead. Apparently the enemy is being routed and is surrendering," remarked the Chief.

"No, I hadn't heard that. I only know that the Americans are clearing out the Ward, street to street. They are still taking some casualties. The enemy may be surrendering, but there are still enemies who are fighting."

"I hope that this ends soon. I wonder how much longer it will take?" asked Natsumi as she sat back on her hospital bed. Nakajima pulled up some chairs for everyone, and then took one for himself and sat next to Miyuki's bed. "I just hope that no one else has to die today. Come home, Arleigh…"

* * *

"And I'm not really Chief of the Boat, I'm really Cleopatra, Queen of the Egyptians," remarked Chief Petty Officer Dan Hendricks, Chief of the Boat for the U.S.S. Vandegrift, FFG-48, an American Oliver Hazard Perry Class Guided Missile Frigate patrolling the waters in Tokyo Bay. "Look, this is my story, so shut up."

"Whatever, Chief," quipped a SONAR tech.

"Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah, so Mason here decided that he'd enjoy taking a sampan ride when we were docked in Singapore last year, and…" before the Chief could finish, a warning light lit up next to Mason, the SONAR tech.

Miller grabbed his headset and dialed in a few new settings on the console. He swore and reached up to hit the com unit. "Con, SONAR. I have an unknown contact at bearing three-four-nine, probably submerged. It's that same one I've been getting intermittently, sir."

"SONAR, Con. Try to track it, Mase. I'll be right there," responded Captain Harry Mason. The SONAR tech and the Captain weren't related, but people teased them both about the possibility of the father/son relationship actually being a secret. "What have you got, Billy?"

"I don't know, Cap'n. Plant noise is definitely diesel/electric; I'd be able to tell if it was a nuke boat, and there isn't any standard reactor noise. I am getting some reverberations from pistons, so it has to be diesel/electric."

"Hmm."

"Sir, I have a blade count, I think. The contact is doing about 4 knots." As Miller finished, the printer next to him came to life and spit out a single sheet. Miller grabbed the paper. "Computer says it's a Japanese Oyashio-Class sub. Yeah, now that I think about it, that's exactly like the sound signature the Uzushio made when we exercised with her a few months ago. It's bearing three-four-nine at about 15,000 yards."

"I'm going to bring us closer. I want to find out what this guy is up to so close to land. Chief, get me Yokosuka on the horn."

"Aye, Cap'n."

* * *

Back on land, Arleigh was conferring with Camp Zama and General Walker over the radio. "Sir, the prisoners have no idea where Colonel Nakatani could have gone. All they know is that it is somewhere along the water boundaries of the Ward." They weren't using regular radio etiquette.

"And you believe them, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, actually, I do, Colonel Kerr." Arleigh was sitting at a table in the former enemy CP and tacking away at a field computer with intel on the screen from Camp Zama on Nakatani.

"You know him, Rivera. What's your opinion?" asked Walker.

"General, I've met him five or six times in a couple years. I hardly call than knowing him. He may be flying out, he could be boating out, but even he's smart enough to know we're covering those routes heavily. We've got surface vessels from the Navy and the JMDF covering the water and going out by air is just plain suicide with our superiority."

"Even he is smart enough? Sounds like you don't hold him in too high of regard."

"Even before yesterday I didn't, sir. I don't think he was exactly pleased to be only a Brigade commander at this point. He wanted to run the entire field army and he couldn't give two craps about his men. The guy is certifiably insane, too. I never trusted him. Not that I had a choice, really." Arleigh stopped short. There was a marker on his screen indicating a new intel report had come in. Arleigh got them since he was involved in intelligence for the entire U.S. military.

He clicked on it and brought it up. 'Navy intel. There's a Japanese sub tooling around near where the Sumida and Tokyo Bay meet. All Japanese subs accounted for except one that never surfaced for com-check on three straight occasions. Sub in question is SS-592 Uzushio. Captained by Commander Tonishi Hideki. U.S.S. Vandegrift, FFG-48 maintaining track and shadow on the sub. Possible rogue submarine.' There were pictures attached to the report and Arleigh pulled them up. The first was a picture of the SS-592 docked in Yokosuka, the second was of the SS-592 underway off the coast of Kyushu, and the third was a picture of Tonishi. He looked away and was about to transmit a radio message when a light bulb went off in his head. His eyes snapped back to the picture of Tonishi on the screen. "Oh, bloody hell."

Walker's puzzled voice came across the radio. "Rivera? Rivera? Son, what the hell is going on?"

"Sir, I know how Nakatani is going to escape."

* * *

A small Zodiac boat rode down the Sumida River along the western bank. The helmsman piloted without any lights, trying to avoid detection. Wearing night vision goggles, the helmsman swore. The green hue of everything was annoying, especially since the water blended in with the shore at several points. About fifteen minutes passed before the mouth of the river was visible, but there was a duo of JMDF patrol boats moving down the river.

The helmsman quickly ducked the boat under a bridge and slid up next to a support column, canvassing the boat in the darkness. He shut down the engine and waited. The JMDF patrol boats passed under the high bridge over the river and moved on, apparently not noticing the small Zodiac. Just as the patrol craft passed, two small helicopters whizzed by overhead. The helmsman restarted the engine and gently edged the boat around the column before moving on.

A JSDF lieutenant grabbed a small radio-receiver device and turned it on. It immediately began picking up a short-wave homing signal coming from a tiny buoy floating in the Bay near the mouth of the Sumida. The lieutenant fed the helmsman the directions towards the buoy, and the small boat increased speed as it exited the River and entered the bay. The target was within sight.

* * *

A few hundred feet above the water, two 160th SOAR MH-6 helicopters met up over the mouth of the river. Over the Delta coms, the team conversed about the situation. "Damnit, he may not be out right now," said McMichael over the set.

Out in the distance, Arleigh saw the Vandegrift moving in closer to the mouth of the river. Two SH-60 Anti-Submarine helicopters from the frigate were using dipping SONAR to try and locate the probable Japanese sub contact. "Yeah, maybe not. We'll loiter as long as we can, see if he shows up." Arleigh leaned back against the slightly vibrating frame of the Little Bird chopper and flipped his night vision goggles up before rubbing his eyes. He had remembered from an earlier meeting with Nakatani, that there had been a naval officer there, a Commander named Tonishi. The officer had been introduced as Nakatani's cousin. After a little bit of research, Arleigh had found out that Tonishi was considered a maverick in the JMDF, always harping about making the military larger and amending the constitution to allow for offensive operations. He was crazy enough to attempt what Arleigh thought he would attempt.

He replaced his night vision goggles and continued to scan the Bay below. Off in the distance, Arleigh saw that the wake from the Vandegrift had changed and the frigate was making an emergency hard turn to port. "What the hell?"

"Lieutenant, you might want to hear this." The MH-6's pilot came across the Delta's com net and relayed a message that had come across an open channel.

"Torpedo in the water! This is the U.S.S. Vandegrift; we are under attack from a Japanese submarine in Tokyo Bay! Taking evasive action!"

The Perry-Class was known for its sports-car like handling, and soon it was rocketing away from the scene at 31 knots towards the opposite side of the Bay. The Vandegrift jettisoned a torpedo decoy, but it was too late. Above, the Americans in the choppers watched in horror as the torpedo exploded next to the aft helicopter deck. A column of water shot up into the dusk sky and plumes of flames rose from the deck.

"Mary Mother of God!" yelled Arleigh over the com.

"Sir, look!" Chavez said. He pointed down at the water as a sub surfaced a few hundred yards from the hovering choppers. A small black shape was racing towards the sub as it surfaced.

"That's our man! Chief get us over that sub immediately."

"Yes, sir!" shouted back the pilot over the com.

Arleigh grabbed his M4A1 from the clip-hold on the bench next to him and primed a flare in the 40mm grenade launcher. He fired at as sharp an angle as possible without hitting the rotor blades. The flare shot up and deployed a soft red color. The submarine was illuminated as well as the Zodiac now only a few hundred yards away from the sub.

"Okay, Chief, open the link to the horn." Inside the chopper, the pilot turned on a loud-speaker which was routed to Arleigh's com gear. In Japanese, Arleigh began, "Attention Japanese submarine, stop where you are. Do not attempt to submerge or you will be torpedoed. Attention Zodiac boat, shut off your motor and turn away from the submarine or you will be fired upon. Repeat, stop." Arleigh bit back a swear as he saw the two helicopters from the Vandegrift making turns to return to the ship and provide search and rescue support in case there were men in the water. The helicopter deck was a firestorm, so they couldn't land, though. 'Crap, they'll realize that two unarmed choppers can't do them any damage. I need torps from those Seahawks.'

The two MH-6s began taking small arms fire from the conning tower of the surfaced submarine. Lewis reported the fact over the radio, as if Arleigh didn't know. "Roger that, Sergeant. Shoot back at the submarine. Chavez, you and me are going to fire warning shots at the Zodiac. Try not to hit them, just fire in front of them or above their heads."

"Roger." The gunner and Arleigh began firing warning shots around the Zodiac, trying to deter it from moving any closer to the submarine, but it wasn't working. The two were within a few hundred yards, and once they linked up, that was the game. Nakatani could enter through a deck hatch and the sub would submerge. The nearest healthy American ship was on the other side of the Bay, and the Vandegrift was now listing heavily to starboard while continuing to burn.

"Ah, bloody hell, Chavez. Keep at it, I want him alive!" Arleigh broke out a launched grenade, hoping that the force of hitting the water from 300 feet would detonate the round. It did. He hoped explosives would be more influential on the Zodiac's decision to stop. "He ain't buying it. Damnit! We'll have to take him out. On three, shoot for the Zodiac. Sink the sum'bitch. Hopefully he can swim. One, two…"

The submarine shook violently as a 76mm cannon round slammed into the conning tower. A secondary explosion ripped the most of the structure off of the submarine. Several bodies were pitched hundreds of feet into the air and fell into the bay.

Arleigh looked up and saw smoke coming from the Vandegrift mid-structure, but there weren't any flames. The ship's 76mm cannon pumped out another round, which slammed into the stern of the listing submarine. The Perry-Class was also known for its incredibly tough design, so it wasn't a surprise to Arleigh that it had managed a turn to port and was making a run at the submarine. 'Christ, even getting hit in the stern and it can manage rudder and prop controls.' The stern was still on fire, but it seemed to be under control. The fire eerily silhouetted the Vandegrift as it menacingly advanced on the stricken sub.

Below, the Zodiac had stopped and was retrieving a body from the water. Apparently they realized that the escape wasn't going to happen. Arleigh ordered the MH-6 to fly lower and hover above the Zodiac. The American officer was surprised to see through his night vision goggles that there was a man on the Zodiac being held at gunpoint, and he looked to be Nakatani. "Hey, Chavez, are you seeing what I'm, seeing."

"Yeah, I think so. They don't look like a happy family. What are we going to do?"

"Cover them with your S.A.W. I want to communicate with them." Arleigh asked the pilot to reopen the link to the loud-speaker. "Attention Zodiac boat; if you wish to surrender you must remain at least 100 meters from the submarine, but you may recover the sailors thrown from it." Arleigh closed the link just as Jones came across the net.

"Sir, when will a boarding team be able to get here?"

"I don't know. But we're going to wait here until an American sea bound unit gets here. I don't want to risk a Japanese unit doing something, whether helping or killing them." Arleigh continued to aim his rifle from the hovering chopper at the boat. Several minutes passed. The choppers were running lower on fuel as time passed. The U.S.S. Chaffee was steaming for the area to put out a launch, but Arleigh received a radio relay from the Vandegrift.

"Rivera, it's Harry Mason. We've got the fires out and are proud to report that we have sustained only ten minor wounds and no deaths, testament to the design of this fabulous ship. We're setting out our undamaged launch to board and capture the Zodiac and the Chaffee will arrive in approximately fifteen minutes to board the stricken submarine. SONAR has reported that the submarine has lost its engine and is dead in the water. It has not attempted communications at this time. Over."

"That's great to hear, Vandy. We'll provide cover until you have the prisoners. Great shots with those 76 mike-mikes, by the way, Captain. Over."

"Thanks, Rivera. Launch on the way. Vandy Out."

The remaining team members watched the Vandy's launch sail around the stricken submarine and advance on the Zodiac. After the boarding team had secured the prisoners, including a very alive and furious Colonel Nakatani, the pilot announced over the coms that the helicopter had reached bingo-fuel status. The pilot was using the emergency reserve to stay aloft.

Arleigh asked for a commo relay. "Vandy, we're disengaging and heading back to base. Thanks for saving our butts out there, Captain. Over."

"Any time, Delta, any time. I'll see you later, Rivera. It appears that your dad's debt to me is going to be repaid by you. When we dock, you're buying my crew beers."

Arleigh laughed. "Aye, Cap'n. I'll put it on the Army's tab. Delta Five-One Out." He addressed the rest of the team. "Great job, guys. I'm proud of you. Now maybe we can end this thing. Put 'em on safe and let 'em hang, boys. Let's call it a day. Mission accomplished." Cheers came over the com set as Arleigh banged on the cockpit door twice, signaling the pilot to return to base. As the MH-6s turned south and headed for the airport, Arleigh couldn't help but think about all his fellow Army and Marine Corps soldiers who had been evacuated. This was a victory for them, too. But above all, there were two young women, hopefully still alive, back at the field hospital who he thought about. He made a note to locate them as soon as the chopper landed. 'You two had better be okay, Natsumi and Miyuki, or I'll be very pissed.' Arleigh smiled. 'They're definitely okay. Nothing can stop them. Why would I doubt them?' He watched the night skyline of Tokyo flash by beneath him. "I love my job! Woo!"

**THE END**

(But stay tuned for the Epilogue!)

* * *

QUESTIONS & COMMENTS: Bravo26Flashpoint (at) yahoo. com 


	18. Rest and Recreation

**The Siege**

**Epilogue: Rest and Recreation**

By JagdPanther

**Four Years Later**

Miyuki and Natsumi both miraculously recovered from all their wounds. They had long since left the Traffic Department, but they still were partners, of course. Both were junior inspectors just across the station. Many of the Traffic cops jokingly told the pair that they had gone over to the dark side of the force. Aoi and Yoriko was the pair to be reckoned with now, as surprising as it seemed. The Chief had moved up the ladder to commandant of the entire station. He regretted every second of it. And he thought managing the Traffic Department had been hard.

Ken finally worked up the courage to ask Miyuki to marry him. Miyuki couldn't have said "yes" faster. It wasn't long before the two were married and had a child, a young girl who they named after Miyuki's mother. Ken became the youngest commander of the Traffic Department in the history of the station, taking over for Kachou.

Bokuto Station itself was not the same, of course. The old station had been demolished and a new, state of the art facility was built on top of it, as defiance to anyone who would attack it. It had new security systems and surveillance to prevent kidnappings of officers, as it had failed to do before the attack took place.

As a result of the attack, the Japanese government looked seriously into more advanced methods of terrorism prevention and did a thorough search of their military for anyone who would try something that idiotic again. Many lives, both American and Japanese, were lost during the attack on the Sumida Ward. Many Japanese soldiers who had been taken prisoner were tried and convicted of treason by the government, and other terrorists were convicted of many other crimes. The biggest of all the trials were the trials of Colonel Nakatani and Commander Tonishi, both of whom had survived the final raid the second night of the battle. The two officers were convicted of treason, murder, theft of government property, and numerous other lesser crimes. In an unprecedented move by the Japanese government, the High Court made an exception to the Constitution and both officers were executed three years to the day that the battle for the Sumida Ward began.

The country had been wounded grievously by the attacks, and it had taken several years for the wounds to begin to heal and for people to reconcile with what had happened. The U.N. had stepped in to prevent riots against the JSDF facilities from turning violent. It had been a dark few years for the Japanese people after the attack.

It wasn't a surprise that Arleigh and his Delta Force team had disappeared right after Colonel Nakatani had been captured. As a highly secretive special operations unit, it was their job to disappear. Arleigh did not get a chance to see Miyuki or Natsumi when he landed at the airport. With their covers blown and the last remnants of the terrorist group eliminated, their job was finished and all twelve Deltas returned alive to Fort Bragg, North Carolina. They were welcomed home as heroes by their fellow D-Boys. The team all received promotions to the next rank as well as many medals for their actions. In the two years the mission ran, and including the battle, the Troop never lost a single operator killed in action.

Arleigh was promoted to Captain and received the Distinguished Service Cross for his actions during the battle. He completed a seven-year stint with Delta Force, becoming the youngest Delta officer ever to complete his rookie five-year term. But he felt something was still missing from his life.

Officer Hideki Honda, Detective Tokuno, Private Michael McCray, Private, First Class Mark Miller, Lance Corporal Casey Johnson, Corporal Josh Kagiri, Sergeants Dale Adams and Dale Lenox, Staff Sergeant Ken Swiatowski, Sergeants, First Class AJ Carlson, Earl Morris, Al Ryker, Dave Smith, Chris Stevens, and Ty Williams, Master Sergeant Jake Anderson, and Chief Warrant Officers Martin Wilson and Daniel Mills all survived their brushes with death. Tokuno and Honda returned to the police force after a month of medical leave. Anderson retired a Sergeant Major after over twenty-two years in the Army, and Earl Morris took over his job as Troop Senior NCO. The rest of the Americans stayed on to serve out their enlistments and some even re-enlisted, especially the Deltas.

The Americans took a few weeks to return order and civility to the Sumida Ward. They helped rebuild some structures and remove debris from battle. Over one hundred and fifty Americans were killed in the largest urban battle since Mogadishu in 1993. Many soldiers received awards for bravery and gallantry. The attack caused uproar around the world, and Japan and America were at the forefront of the questioning and criticism. It would be years before things were settled amongst the two governments involved and those of the world.

But at least things were returning to normal, ever so slowly. Things changed for people after the attacks. Most people were moving on. It was a new lease on life for people involved in the battle.

* * *

A July morning flooded over Tokyo. All was peaceful. In an apartment in the city, an alarm clock blared the arrival of 8:30 AM. Arleigh fumbled around for the clock but a long, slender female arm beat him too it.

"You have to learn the art of the snooze button, dear," whispered Natsumi.

"I'm sorry, but I don't subscribe to Slackers Weekly," retorted Arleigh. Natsumi jabbed him in the stomach under the covers. "Ow, don't be so rough."

The brown haired inspector smirked as she propped her head up more on the pillow. "Sorry. No gentle setting on this woman."

"So I've noticed." Arleigh hugged Natsumi tighter. Husband and wife lied silently together as sunlight crept across the room. Suddenly, Natsumi rolled on top of her spouse and kissed him.

"What was that for?"

Playfully, Natsumi toyed with Arleigh's hair. "Do I need a reason?"

"Well, no…"

She smiled mischievously. "It's Saturday morning, we've got no plans, and I'm hungry."

"Well, we can go out for…"

A scowl killed her smile. "Wrong kind of hunger," she responded, tightening her grip on Arleigh's shoulder and bringing her knee between his legs.

A grin tugged at the corner of Arleigh's mouth. "Oh, well forgive my mistake, love." And with that, he pulled his lover down and the two became one.

**The REAL End**

Thank you for reading The Siege! Hope you enjoyed this small novel.

**QUESTIONS & COMMENTS**: Bravo26Flashpoint (at) yahoo. com


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